


Monsters Inside Me

by somanyhands, Spanderific (somanyhands)



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: (well dur), Angst, Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not that good!, Ignores Buffy S8/Angel S6 comics etc, M/M, Minor warning for SH and SH thoughts in a future chapter, Now updating daily until it's finished, Past Child Abuse, Vampires, Violence, but not too graphic, eventual slash pairing(s) but nothing very graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 70
Words: 76,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyhands/pseuds/somanyhands, https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyhands/pseuds/Spanderific
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a life of abuse and fighting monsters on the Hellmouth, Xander left Sunnydale for Africa to help in the search for new slayers.<br/>As he returns to the US, he realises he is still battling his own demons and finds help and friendship from an unusual source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Xander looked at the fireplace.

Well, strictly speaking, he wasn't actually _looking_ at it, he was more staring in its general direction.  
Small fiery embers fluttered up, settling against the deep black of the fire-back before skittering away up the chimney.  
Xander wished he could escape so easily.

He let out a long sigh and slumped back in his chair, taking a long drink directly from his Scotch bottle. It was cheap Scotch; bitter and disgusting, but it was all Xander could afford and, ultimately, it had a good enough effect: a kind of hazy, drunkenness that helped him forget. It would have to do.

He wondered, for a brief moment, what his fellow Scoobies would think if they saw him now. Unemployed, living in a dingy Scottish basement flat, drinking cheap Scotch alone. Xander supposed it wasn't that much of a change really from how he grew up in Sunnydale, except he had never expected to become a drinker. He had sworn to himself that he would _never_ go down the same road as his father had, drinking heavily and getting completely rat-arsed on a regular basis.  
As he turned his thoughts to his parents, he gulped down the last of the Scotch and threw the empty bottle towards the fire, growling loudly. He hated them. Both for what they were and for what they had made him into.  
The fire hissed and spat furiously as the last dregs of alcohol both quenched and boosted what was left of the flames, and pieces of glass settled between the dwindling firewood.  
It reminded him of a spell Willow had done once.

Xander felt his heart swell at the fond memory of Willow and her "fire-starting" spell during her early days of spell-casting. How things had changed for her. Now she was heading up a coven down south while Xander festered away, almost forgotten. He wasn't completely forgotten, of course. Giles still occasionally called by, when he had some free time from his duties on the new Watchers' Council, but he saw little of Buffy or anyone else. 

Xander had become a spare part; unneeded and unwanted. After he had returned from finding the last of the new Slayers in Africa, nobody had quite known what to do with him. He remembered feeling like he was always in the way. He couldn't return to the only career he had previously been any good at. Who would want a one-eyed foreman with no depth perception on their construction site?  
He had few school qualifications, little work experience and no real talents save for the ability to get underfoot and make bad jokes.

Nothing much changes really.

He glanced back towards the fireplace and sighed. He couldn't clear up that mess until the fire had gone cold, and he didn't relish the thought of letting the fire go out at all in the freezing Scottish winter. He thought longingly back to hot summers and mild winters in Sunnydale and found himself wanting any kind of weather where he didn't need to dress up in fifteen layers just to prevent frostbite.

He stood and walked over to his small kitchen area, flicking on the coffee machine and pulling down a mug from the shelves, wiping off the dust with his sleeve. He supposed he ought to make an effort to keep his flat clean, but there was little incentive really. Visitors were rare and those who did call round didn't stay long.

A knock at the door made him jump suddenly, almost dropping the mug into the sink. He instinctively glanced around the flat, wincing at the mess, and briefly debated ignoring the door and pretending to be out or in bed.  
A second knock just made him more irritated, and he slammed the mug down onto the counter and strode across to the main door. Whoever the hell it was would just have to deal with the state of both Xander and his living accommodation.

"Andrew?" 

Well, if that wasn't just about the last person in the world that Xander had expected to see in his doorway on a freezing November evening.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

OK, so not a particularly polite welcome to greet an old friend with, but it pretty much summed up how Xander felt about the unexpected intrusion.

"Errr... Hi Xander." Andrew's face fell as he took in Xander's appearance. "Can I come in?"  
He glanced over Xander's shoulder towards the dimly-lit flat, and Xander shrugged, moving aside to let Andrew inside.

"Coffee?" he asked, shutting out the winter chill and turning back to the kitchen with the hope that he could find an acceptably clean second mug.

"Sure. Unless you have tea?" Andrew shifted a screwed up blanket from the sofa and sat himself down on one end. "It's been a long day."

"Sorry, just coffee." Xander hunted down a second mug and poured two coffees, carrying them through to the living area and passing the cleaner of the two to Andrew.

"You've flown in today?"

Andrew hid a grimace as he tasted the hot drink. It was much stronger than he had been used to in LA, and it tasted pretty vile, especially compared with Watcher's tea.

"Well, I've come via London. I flew in yesterday but had some business with the Council to handle first." He placed his cup down in a small empty space on the side table and looked around. This is where Xander Harris was living now. In almost squalor in a poky basement flat. Andrew suddenly felt overwhelmingly grateful for how much he had been looked after by Giles, the Watchers' Council and the LA office.

He also realised that his reason for visiting might be too little too late for Xander, but he hoped sincerely that was not the case. He cleared his throat before beginning his well-rehearsed lines.

"Xander," he began, leaning forward in his seat towards Xander's position on the chair, "There's been a situation in LA, I'm not sure if you've heard about it? Angel Investigations lost some valuable team members during their battle with The Circle."

Xander stared into his mug, nodding weakly. He'd heard something along those lines during Giles' last visit, but he hadn't been paying too much attention really. He had just sat there mutely as the older man talked, waiting for him to leave so he could grab a decent drink of something stronger than the tea that Giles had brought with him.

"Well," Andrew continued, undeterred by Xander's lack of reaction or interest, "they need someone who knows something about demons. Someone human though." he added quickly, "They have plenty of non-humans already. They want someone with experience in the field..." he trailed off, half-hoping Xander would catch on without him having to actually spell it out. Xander remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the swirling coffee.

"Angel wanted me to come here... well... he wanted me to ask... in person..."

 _Spit it out, Andrew,_ he told himself, _before we both fall asleep with boredom._

"Well...if you would consider coming to LA to work with us?"


	2. Chapter 2

Spike threw the spiny-backed demon back against the wall and only slightly grimaced at the resulting sickening snap of its long neck.

"Ha!" he shouted triumphantly into the night, "That'll teach you to come sniffing around my lair!"

He reached into his duster and pulled out his smokes, tapping one out of the packet and leaning against a tree as he lit up. 

"Your _lair?_ "

Angel's voice was mocking. Not quite laughing but definitely taking the piss.

"You have a lair now?"

Spike rolled his eyes and blew smoke in Angel's direction as he pushed away from the tree and started walking away.

"I might have." he grumbled, taking another long drag before slipping around a corner and, hopefully, away from his sire.

"Bloody poof." he mumbled to himself. "Always up in everybody else's bloody business."

As he went to exit the alleyway he had turned into, he noticed a dark shadow standing in the way.

Angel.

"Jesus, give a guy a heart attack, won't you?" Spike exclaimed, side-stepping the vampire and turning to stand facing him on the open street.

"It'd have to be beating for that to happen, William." Angel replied, putting deliberate emphasis on Spike's name, just for kicks as he turned around and found himself almost nose to nose with his infuriatingly annoying childe.

"It works well enough." Spike stepped up to the challenge, facing off with his sire and trying desperately not to just punch him in the face right then and there.

Angel let out a short, barking laugh.

"Right!" His face dead-panned again, quashing thoughts of the last time Spike had really used his un-beating heart - on Buffy. "Because you're just fighting off the girls 'round here, aren't you?"

The fight had left them both with excess adrenaline, and it was becoming clear that they were in serious danger of using that against each other. Spike weighed up the odds. He could probably take the old man in a head-to-head, but did he want to?

He shrugged and turned away again, walking deliberately in the opposite direction to his on-again-off-again "home" at Angel Investigations latest premises.

"You're not coming back then?" Angel shouted after him, again half-mocking his childe's immaturity. "Ever?" he added quietly and, if he was honest, a little hopefully.

"Don't get too excited." Spike yelled into the darkness, "Just need to let off some post-fight steam. Figured you'd rather I didn't whoop your arse right here in the street?"

The question went unanswered and, as Spike threw a glance over his shoulder, he realised Angel had left already.

Spike carried on down the street towards a seedier part of the city. Seedy usually meant rough liquor and even rougher fights, and that was just what Spike needed right now.  
He flicked his cigarette away and began kicking an old Coke can along in front of him as he walked. This area was even darker and more depressing than Spike remembered. He frowned as his preternatural hearing picked up voices; whispers in a doorway, and he swung around to face them as he picked out the word "vampire" in the darkness.  
A human fight, Spike was after. A dusting, he most definitely was not.  
Not his own, anyway.

He reached into the inside pocket of his duster and wrapped his fingers around the stake he kept there, reassuring himself of its presence.

"I wouldn't, if I were you, Vampire." A human-shaped voice stepped out of the shadows and into Spike's path. "Wouldn't want to have you swept away on the breeze now, would we?" The human turned to three others who had joined him from the shadows, and all four began laughing. 

"Or else what?" Spike looked between them and scowled, resisting the overwhelming urge to vamp out and take them all on.

Four against one, he decided, was not a good idea. Especially when his demon didn't have the element of surprise.  
One guy pulled a baseball bat out from behind him and began smacking it, almost playfully, on his hand. He looked towards each of his companions in turn as one by one they pulled various weapons from pockets. A long flick knife, a rope, and the last weapon to appear was a stake.

Spike tipped his head slightly, weighing up odds. It was an unusual collection of weapons for fighting vampires, and he eyed the men warily as they began to spread out around him. Feeling slightly more optimistic about his chances, now that he knew more about what he was up against, Spike decided it was now or never and pounced at the guy closest to him.  
He wrestled the stake from his grip and almost had the guy in a headlock when he felt hands behind him and the rope wrap around his neck. He felt himself pulled backwards and stake guy leapt at him, pinning him down to the floor while rope guy pulled just hard enough to limit Spike's head movement. Despite not needing to breathe, the pressure on his neck was enough to cause concern as both knife and bat guys jumped either side and pulled out Spike's arms. He felt himself vamp out and began thrashing his head, hissing at the four men.

"Got yourself into a bit of a pickle here, haven't you?" Stake-guy said, sitting on Spike's legs with his face only inches from Spike's own, "Pretty boy."

Stake-guy was too large for Spike to buck him off, even with his vampire strength, and Knife-guy and Bat-guy were now sitting one on each arm. Knife-guy leaned forwards and ran the tip of his knife across one of the ridges on Spike's forehead. Blood began to bead and it flowed slowly as Spike pulled his head away from the knife's edge. Rope-guy pulled tighter.

"Oh look," Knife-guy began mockingly, sliding the blade lower across Spike's cheek and across his chin, "he bleeds just like a human."

"He ain't no human. He's a fucking freak." Bat-guy responded, lifting the bat and striking a forceful blow to Spike's stomach.

"You know," Rope-guy leaned forwards and almost whispered in Spike's ear, "we were just gonna kill you. One less freak vamp to worry about. But I think we have a better idea."

He didn't elaborate, but Spike was aware of a silent conversation of looks and gestures above him before Stake-guy, who appeared to be the one they all listened to, spoke up.

"Let's have some fun with this one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be consistently posting this daily, I don't think. I'm not sure that I can keep on top of it that way.  
> I really don't want my muse to be pressured into freezing up on me.
> 
> So, probably more like twice a week or something. Hope that's acceptable!


	3. Chapter 3

"LA?"

Xander would have laughed if he wasn't staring at Andrew in complete disbelief.

"You want me to go to LA?"

Andrew swallowed hard. He hadn't really known what sort of reaction to expect from Xander, but the look of sheer shock he was seeing right now was definitely not it.

"What use can I be?" Xander asked, standing up from his chair and heading to the kitchen. He pulled a full bottle of Scotch down from the highest cupboard and began hunting for glasses.

"I'm no good to anyone any more. I can't see, much less fight."

He turned back around to Andrew and waved the bottle at him.

"Drink?"

Andrew blinked and looked down at his coffee. Maybe he could do with something stronger. He nodded mutely, still trying to process Xander's extreme reaction. This wasn't the confident Xander he remembered from Sunnydale, always up for the fight. He had been warned that Xander was different now, but he hadn't really appreciated what that meant.  
His head snapped back up as a glass was thrust into his line of vision.

"Yeah.. thanks." he stuttered, before taking a cautious drink. Not the best stuff he'd drunk but definitely better than the coffee.

"Look, Xander," he continued, after a short and awkward silence, "Angel lost everything during their fight. He needs you."

"Angel hates me!" Xander really did laugh this time. His and Angel's history was notoriously rocky, and there was no love lost between them. Despite the times the team had worked with both Angel and Spike, Xander still harboured an inherent distrust of vampires. The idea of working alongside Angel... well, it was laughable.

Andrew smiled and took another drink of the Scotch, savouring the burn as it slipped down his throat. Definitely better than the coffee.

"You'd be surprised." Andrew watched Xander drop himself down on to the other end of the sofa and empty his own glass in one long swallow. "A lot of stuff has happened since you last saw Angel. He's... he's not the same any more." Andrew looked across to see Xander watching him, hanging on his every word. "He lost so much. Almost everyone he cared about is either dead or gone, but still he fights. He has never once been tempted to just give up."

Xander refilled his glass from the bottle on the side table, proffering it to Andrew who extended his almost-empty glass with a nod.

"He's close though, Xander." Andrew took another drink, realising that he was beginning to notice its effects already, "I'm worried that he is close to giving up on it all. He is just one tragedy away, I'm sure of it. I can't help him on my own. If Angel goes down, I don't know what will happen in LA."

"As if Angel is keeping the whole of LA in check on his own?" Xander raised an eyebrow. He knew Angel had some thing with the Powers That Be in LA, but he seriously doubted that ensouled vampire's influence extended to controlling an entire city.

"He was." Andrew's voice was quiet. "The Powers that Be have been keeping a close eye on him since the fall though. They can see that he has begun to lose his edge. They saw it before he did." Andrew took another drink and realised that his head was beginning to feel light. Jetlag, English food and bad Scotch, he supposed. 

"Angel really didn't want to ask for help from anyone in England. You can imagine how the Watchers' Council reacted."

Xander snorted. Having spent some time around groups of Council members, at various points during his Slayer hunting days, he could well picture the discussions when it became knowledge that Angelus (as most Council members still insisted on calling him) was losing his grip on LA. 

"Half of them just wanted to get rid of him completely." Andrew continued, placing his glass down and shaking his head to the outstretched bottle that Xander subsequently offered to him. "They saw it as an opportunity to finally dispose of a "loose cannon" as they saw him. Giles tried to talk reason to them, but it was with a reluctant "agree to disagree" that the meeting eventually finished yesterday. Giles advised that I come up here and speak to you anyway. He's confident that, if you do agree to come to LA, the Council might see that as a way to keep Angel in check."

"And what do you think?" Xander had dispensed with his glass and was now swigging straight from the bottle.

Andrew shrugged.

"I really don't know. Angel wanted help. You know Angel, his history and everything. You also know a lot about fighting demons...."

"And dating them." Xander interjected with a chuckle.

Andrew laughed openly.

"And that." he agreed. "But Angel needs someone who he can feel comfortable with. Someone familiar. Losing everyone around him has made him isolate himself somewhat. I can only do so much. I can help with research and stuff, but I'm not a fighter, and I can tell that Angel doesn't trust me yet. Maybe he never will. He's never really gotten to know me. Not like Spike."

"Spike?" Xander's eyebrow raised, and he found himself remembering the blond vampire, who died saving the world, more fondly than he might have expected.

"Well, yeah." Andrew nodded, not noticing Xander's reaction beyond his question. "I mean, we all stood together in Sunnydale, right? Even me and Spike felt like part of the team in the end. And then, the whole thing that Spike did... with the sacrificing himself... well, that's what made it so amazing when I saw him back... alive... well, as alive as a vampire can be, in LA."

Xander nearly choked on the Scotch he was swallowing down from the bottle.

"Spike's... alive?"

Andrew turned to Xander and tipped his head to one side. 

"You didn't know?"

"Spike's fucking a-LIVE?" Xander's voice was raised with shock and something else. Anger at being kept out of yet another information loop, perhaps.

Andrew laughed at the sight of him, opened-mouthed and wide-eyed.

"He's in LA. He was part of the battle against the Circle. Really, nobody told you?"

Andrew's face grew serious as he watched Xander's expression change from one of shock to anger and then to contemplation.

"He's in LA? With Angel?"

It was clearly going to take a while for the information to process. Andrew nodded again and pulled one knee up on the sofa, enabling him to turn and face Xander fully.

"They're not best buddies, and Spike isn't working with Angel. Well, not full time. He's around, but he just can't stand it just being Angel and Spike, you know?"

Xander smiled, placing the Scotch bottle down onto the table with a decisive nod. He mirrored Andrew's turned position, and his smile grew wider.

"So," he finally said, after a few minutes of additional thought, "When do we leave?"


	4. Chapter 4

_"Do vampires even need to sleep?"_   
_"Fuck knows. They need to eat though... and this vamp ain't eaten nothing in the 12 hours he's been here."_   
_"How much can a vampire bleed then... you know... before he ain't got nothin' left to bleed out?"_

The voices started off dim; distant; muffled, but became clearer and more distinct as Spike came round. It was dark; very dark, too dark even for his vampire vision, and his arms and legs were not only bound but they also felt attached to something, a wall, maybe.

"Fuck." One of the men mumbled, and Spike felt fumbling near his face as a hood was removed from his head, revealing a dimly lit room and three men standing close to him. That explained the darkness then.

"He's awake." someone said. Spike squinted, trying to make out the faces he vaguely recalled from earlier, but the light was directed towards him and all he could make out was silhouettes and shadows. "Someone needs to call Jeff."

"I'll do it." somebody else responded. "But I'll need to go outside. Cellphone signal in here is bad."

One set of footsteps retreated, and Spike was dimly aware of a door opening, but he didn't have much time to analyse anything else before the remaining two men turned back to him.

"I guess we can get started without those two anyway, right?" The voice spoke in hushed tones, maybe to prevent Spike from hearing, but not realising that his vampire hearing would pick it up anyway. "I mean, nothing to stop us from having a bit of a warm up, is there?"

The second voice chuckled, swiftly followed by the first one. 

Spike didn't like the sound of that at all. Two on one wouldn't usually present him with a problem at all, but he was at a serious disadvantage being restrained. He tested his leg restraints and concluded that they were shackled to something either on the wall or on the ground behind him. He could move them a few inches but nothing useful in defence. His arms were pulled tightly behind his back, and his chest was exposed where his shirt was undone and his t shirt cut open down the middle. In preparation for what, Spike wasn't sure, but he was fairly certain it was nothing good.

"Hungry, Vampire?"

The question was loud and growling in his ear, and Spike noticed that one of the guys had approached him from behind. He shook his head to clear it, unsure how he hadn't seen him approach. Did the guy move with some sort of supernatural speed? Or was he drugged so he hadn't noticed the movement? Not knowing unnerved Spike even more, and he growled back, vamping out almost unintentionally.

"Ooooooh." the second voice said from somewhere in front of him, "Demon's come out to play."

"What's the matter, Vampire." The voice from behind was still very close, and Spike tried to turn his head to see who it was and where, but he found his vision blurred and his brain fuzzy.

"Don't you wanna play? I thought vampires like an unfair fight? Playing with their prey. Isn't that what you guys do?"

Spike was sure now that he had been drugged somehow. He had no idea what with - vampires aren't usually affected in the same way as humans so it was deliberately created to have a potent effect on vampires - but whatever it was, it was making him disoriented and groggy.

"Wouldn't you rather have a fair fight?" he tried to say, slurring his words somewhat and eliciting a chuckle from the guy behind him but not from the one in front, who approached him very quickly, getting in his face and, Spike noticed with some alarm, pressing what felt like a stake to his chest.

"And since when have YOU ever played FAIR, William?" The man was definitely angry, and Spike could feel the tip of the stake just dipping into his skin, not breaking it but putting pressure on the soft flesh that lay between him and dust. 

William. The guy had called him William. He knew who Spike was? It hadn't occurred to Spike that the ambush was anything more planned than an outnumbered attack on a vampire who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but this guy had just addressed him by name. An old name, but his nonetheless. Maybe Spike himself had been targeted. Maybe this was someone out for revenge against something Spike had done in the past. It didn't narrow down the field much.

"What the HELL is going on?"

The voice came loud and irritated from the back of the room as the third guy re-entered and quickly ran over to the one accosting Spike, pulling him off.

"Don't fucking stake him. Jeff'll be furious!"

"Jeff ain't the only one with a beef with this guy, Marcus." the other guy spat angrily, yanking his arms from Marcus' grip and turning to face Spike again, this time with more distance between them.

"We've all got our reasons for doin' this, Avery." Marcus responded, almost calmly, scanning the room to locate the third man who was just coming into Spike's line of vision from behind him. "Jeff said to wait 'til he gets here. We need to do this right. Make sure we send out the right message. He won't be long. Five minutes 'e said."

The third guy stood with Marcus and Avery for a minute but nobody addressed him directly. They looked at him almost warily but soon relaxed as he slinked off to a corner near the exit and stood watching the doorway. 

His voice had sounded strange. Human but something else too. Not inhuman, not vampire - Spike was fairly sure he'd have noticed that - but there was an aura around the guy which put Spike on edge, even more than he already was in his current situation.   
Spike tried to concentrate on the guy near the door. He was fairly certain that he was one of the four that had attacked him to begin with, and he didn't recall getting any supernatural vibes from any of them when he had first encountered them in the street. Maybe the guy was just weird... or something.

"Right." A fourth voice approached down the dingy passage leading to the room, a voice Spike recognised as being Stake-guy, the guy in charge, presumably this Jeff bloke.

"Let's get this show on the road. The sooner this gets to Angelus, the better."


	5. Chapter 5

"Now, when you see Angel, don't put on any false pretences. He'll see right through them. Just be yourself and I'm sure it'll be fine."

Andrew was beginning to sound anxious now that he and Xander had arrived in LA and were in the cab to Angel Investigations current location.

"And the building where AI is, it's only a temporary location. So no comment on that. Angel is very sensitive about it."

"Andrew," Xander was tired and hungry and he badly needed a drink that wasn't airline-grade coffee, "It'll be fine. Stop panicking, for god's sake." He was beginning to drive Xander around the bend with his nervous fidgeting and chatter. As if it wasn't bad enough that Xander had flown half-way around the world to work with someone he could barely stand.  
For a brief moment, he wondered what the hell he was thinking.

"We're here." Andrew announced, pushing the door open and jumping out of the car, almost before the cab had even come to a stop. Xander opened his door with more caution and looked up at the building they had stopped outside. It seemed nice enough. A dull but functional-looking office building. Nothing like the grand hotel or the Wolfram and Hart offices about which he had heard grand tales from Willow and Andrew.

Andrew leaned down and paid the cabbie before turning to Xander which a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

"Come on," he said in almost a squeak, "let's get inside." and Andrew pushed a combination into the entrance door keypad.

The door opened with a click and he pushed at it, holding it open for Xander to follow into a large open hall area. It was nothing like Xander had expected from seeing the outside. Where the exterior was dull, grey and sterile-looking, the interior was open, modern and, Xander thought, quite flashy. He wondered what the building had been before Angel Investigations acquired it, however they had. He cast his eyes around the hall, noting a large staircase and various corridors on the ground floor as well as a mezzanine and what looked like other offices upstairs. It definitely resembled something more like he was expecting.

"It's almost the same as Wolfram and Hart's original offices." Andrew interrupted Xander's thoughts as he led him towards the large curling staircase. "It's smaller, obviously. Fewer staff now. Fewer resources too. But it was remodelled to be very similar to the original place." Andrew shrugged as if it meant something.

"Angel should be in his office. I presume you want to head straight there?"

Xander contemplated the witty answer that instinctively popped into his head - _"Not really, no."_ \- but suppressed it, responding instead with a nod.

"Sure. Why not?"

This wasn't the time to be a smart ass. Angel'd had a tough enough time of it lately without Xander's smart mouth. Angel needed someone he could rely on to help. Xander wondered, for a moment, whether he could even remotely fulfil that brief.

"In here." Andrew nodded towards a pair of large wooden doors, knocking briefly on one before pushing it open. Xander took a deep breath and followed.

Angel was sitting behind an oversized desk strewn with papers and files. The vampire looked thin. Xander had never given much consideration to Angel's appearance, but even he could tell that he didn't look right. There was something about him. His hair didn't look quite right, his shirt fitted just a little too loosely and, as Angel lifted his head from his hands, Xander could see that even his face had a paler than usual and almost gaunt look to it.

"You look like shit."

It just slipped out. Xander didn't really mean to insult him, and he had tried not to say anything, really he had. But honestly, Angel just didn't look anything like the Angel that Xander remembered... at all.

Angel chuckled and shook his head.

"Good to see you too, Xander." he replied, pushing his chair out and standing, taking a moment to steady himself before walking over to the men and shaking both their hands.

"You haven't slept, have you?" Andrew's voice was filled with concern and just a hint of mothering. "I've been gone three days and you haven't stopped, have you? Have you even fed in that time?"

Xander's eyes jumped from Andrew to Angel as he watched the vampire straighten himself up in an attempt to look less... well... less shit.

"I knew it." Andrew continued, leaning in towards Xander. "See, this is why we need extra hands here. Not just for the work. I also need someone to help keep an eye on him! I'll fetch some O pos." Andrew turned and left the office, leaving Xander feeling more than just a little awkward.

Angel opened his mouth to speak before seemingly thinking better of it. When he re-opened it, his face had a look of resignation.

"It's been a long week." he began, turning back to his desk, "and Spike has been AWOL for the last two days."

"AWOL?" Xander wondered how someone as nomadic as Spike could ever really be considered AWOL.

"Well, he doesn't actually live here or anything. Or really work here officially. But he's usually around most days, bugging me and getting under my skin." Angel motioned to a sofa in the office and indicated for Xander to sit.

"He hasn't been in since we both fought a Montath demon a couple of days ago. I guess he really did want some time out."

Andrew re-entered with a flask, passing it to Angel, who accepted it with a gracious nod, and sat down at the other end of the sofa.

"Nobody has touched the blood in that fridge for days." he complained, directing the accusation at Angel, "You haven't. Spike hasn't. Don't you vampires appreciate an easy meal at all?"

Xander looked across at Angel who just shrugged before finally speaking.

"Spike hasn't been in."

Andrew's eyes slitted and he looked warily at Angel.

"For how long? When did you last see him?"

Angel shrugged again.

"Couple of days. We both fought a Montath demon and went our separate ways. He said he wanted to let off some steam. Probably got himself into a fight somewhere and is sleeping it off. He'll be fine."

"Two days?" Andrew questioned, noticing Xander watching their discussion with an amused grin.

"Really, Andrew," Angel's voice raised slightly, but it only made him sound weary and irritated rather than actually angry, "Spike once disappeared for 23 years! Two days really won't do him any harm. He'll fight, he'll feed, he'll sleep when he needs to and he'll come back when he wants to."

With that, Angel stood, quickly rounding the desk and heading for the office door.

"I'm tired." he declared, grabbing the door handle and pulling the door open just a little harder than necessary, "Thanks for the drink, Andrew. Good to see you Xander, but if you'll both excuse me, I need sleep."

As the door closed behind Angel, Andrew sighed and turned to Xander.

"Come on. I'll show you your room."


	6. Chapter 6

Spike's head was throbbing.  
Actually, now he came to think of it, his entire body was throbbing. Like somebody had it in a vice and was pulling and stretching and... oh, right.

Spike groaned as he remembered.

"He's awake again."

The voice came from behind him. Or, at least, Spike thought it did. He felt dizzy and disoriented and sick, very sick.  
At that point he became acutely aware of one more thing: hunger.  
Desperate, gwawing, ravenous hunger.

He vamped out unintentionally, eliciting a chuckle from the voice behind.

Jeff stepped into view, his face fixed in an expression of determination and hatred which didn't improve any as a smile crossed his lips.

"Welcome back, freak." he taunted, laughing as Spike pulled hopelessly against his restraints. He was still chained, but this time he was on a long, wide table of some sort. His arms and legs were extended and felt as though they were cuffed to the outer corners, and his head was held fast by some sort of collar around his neck. He could move his head very slightly, from side to side, but to move it too far put pressure on his throat and, while he didn't need to breathe, it still prevented any sort of useful movement. He could also feel some restraint across his hips. He tried shifting them, with little effect.  
It was at this point that he also realised, as his mind began to clear slightly, that he was naked.  
That realisation almost scared him.

Almost.

He forced the demon back inside him and closed his eyes briefly to control it. These guys clear had the upper hand here, there was no denying that, but he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him lose control.

"So," Avery came round to his right side, "I've always wondered. Just how much stolen blood can you lose before you, I dunno, die... or dust?" He glanced across to Marcus, who had approached Spike's left to mirror Avery's location. Marcus shrugged.

"I dunno. Depends how much he's drunk, I s'pose. And how much he loses." Avery's face turned from smile to serious in the blink of an eye. "I guess if he bleeds it all out... he'll eventually dust, right?"

Avery was looking at Spike, but Spike wasn't sure if he was expected to answer. He wasn't entirely sure if he could speak at all, given the restrictions on his throat. He chose just to close his eyes instead.

"Open them, William!" Jeff's voice was loud and agitated. "And keep 'em open. Instead of just dustin' you and sendin' you back to Angelus in a box, we got greater plans now."

Spike, not one for usually following commands, instinctively opened his eyes anyway. It was almost as though Angelus had ordered him. The weight carried by the order and the inherent fear that the situation had instilled in him, it all served to make Spike err towards the "being compliant" side.   
After all, compliant was better than dusted.

Jeff closed the gap between himself and Marcus, coming up along Spike's left side and extending his arm out, displaying a long, sharp glistening blade.

"Make sure the camera is rolling, Avery." he instructed, nodding towards the corner of the room where, Spike now noticed, stood a tripod with some sort of video camera fixed to it.  
Avery walked quickly over to it, glancing around the back before returning to his position along Spike's right side.

"It's on." he answered, looking behind Spike's head as he spoke. Spike noticed both Marcus and Jeff's eyes follow that way also for a split second, and their complete attention on an area which he could not see at all was unnerving to say the least. He clamped his eyes closed, for a split second, to once more hold back the demon, before opening them again and finding all three men with their attention back on him.  
He could only assume that whoever was behind him was the fourth man... or whatever he was. Spike still wasn't sure what, but he knew that there was something about him.

Jeff looked towards the video camera, staring straight at it and holding the knife out, ensuring it was in view. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Angelus," he began. Right, Angelus. Spike now recalled the man mentioning his sire - his unsouled sire - before, when they first jumped him, perhaps? Spike's thoughts were interrupted as Jeff continued.

"You don't know who I am but I know you. You are the monster who killed my wife. My darling Suzette. The love of my life and you killed her, along with our unborn child. I don't expect you to remember, but that isn't the point. You killed my child. And, for that, I intend to get revenge: I have yours. Your family, your grandchilde, the demon YOU created through that bitch."

Jeff paused for a second, closing his eyes against the emotions that flooded through him as he spoke about his lost family.

"Angelus. You will pay for what you have done. You and your so-called family. William here, he and his bitch good as killed Avery's daughter when they turned her. Turned her into a MONSTER. A monster that Avery himself then had to kill. Do you know what that must have been like, Angelus? Do you know what it's like to see you own flesh and blood turned to dust? Do you even care?"

Jeff's voice rose further, and Spike turned to Avery, noting that the man had his gaze fixed firmly on the camera, blank and expressionless. 

Jeff carried on.

"They say you have a soul now. That you are a champion for good. They said you had a soul before, that you had just lost it "temporarily" when you murdered my Suzette. But guess what? I DON'T FUCKING CARE."

Jeff was leaning towards the camera now, his face contorted into an expression of extreme rage and anger.

"It is all I can do not to just rip this monster of yours apart."

Jeff turned to Spike, the knife almost shaking in his hand.

"And I will... I'll do it. If you don't come to me yourself. You'll know where. Details will come with this video. Come to us alone or I will kill your child as cold-heartedly as you murdered mine."

Jeff lowered the knife, letting the tip pierce Spike's skin just above his right nipple. He pulled the blade roughly across Spike's chest before lifting it and crossing it with line down his torso, carving a large cross onto Spike's front.

Spike's demon rose as the knife burned through his flesh, and he growled at the three men he could see, his body writhing on the table. Something wasn't right. The burn; the cut; the blood. It wasn't right. There was something about it that made Spike's demon howl.

Jeff laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the hollow of the room before he calmed and turned back to camera.

"24 hours, Angelus."


	7. Chapter 7

Angel slumped into his chair with a long sigh. He had slept a little, but it was a restless, fitful sleep, filled with haunting dreams of friends past.

He took a long drink of his brandy, wrinkling his nose at the taste. Maybe he should have fed first. Nothing tasted right nowadays. It was almost as if everything in the universe was conspiring to make him miserable.

A quiet knock came at his office door, distracting him, briefly, from his self-pity. The door opened and his temp entered, hesitation evident in her step.

"Umm, sir?" she began quietly, "This was just left at reception downstairs. Nobody seems to have seen who delivered it. There's no return information. And... it's addressed to... umm... well, it's addressed to Angelus, sir." Her voice trailed off, and Angel let out an intolerant sigh as he took the package from her.

"Thank you, Grace." he said, dismissing the girl with a wave and ignoring the backwards glance she gave him as she exited the room.

Angel examined the package, turning it in his hands and finding nothing on it other than something written in something dark and brown. He sniffed it. Blood. It spelled out one word.

Angelus.

Angel suppressed his demon, who threatened to leap forwards and rip the package open. He turned the package upside down again and pulled at the tape that sealed it. The outer layer of brown paper fell away to reveal a box. He put the box down on the table and flipped open the top, frowning slightly as it revealed two things: a CD and a folded letter. He pulled out the letter, unfolding the paper and smoothing it out on the desk.

_Angelus_

_Dervish Quarter_   
_Machin's Old Warehouse_   
_Alone_

_or your William will suffer._

Spike.

Angel growled and felt his face shift.

His first thoughts were instantly to protect his family. Where Angel might be constantly irked and frustrated with Spike, his demon still had rights; claims; possession. Spike was his, and nobody messed with anything or anyone belonging to Angelus.

The letter was written on plain paper, in a normal ballpoint pen. Nothing identifiable in that. The box was a standard brown cardboard. Angel lifted out the CD and frowned at it. It had nothing written on it.

Angel scanned his office for something to put it into as he forced his face back into its human form.

"What ya got there?"

Xander's voice made Angel jump as he entered the office, a smile on his face which soon fell as he noticed Angel's serious expression.

"Oh... hi Xander." Angel glanced up only briefly as Xander sat on the desk chair opposite. He looked well-rested. Unlike Angel himself felt.

"It's... ummm... it's nothing. Just something that came in to reception." Angel swiftly swept the box and its wrapping into his top desk drawer before Xander noticed the writing.

"Angel?" Andrew's voice startled the vampire a second time.

"Doesn't anybody knock around here?" Angel answered coarsely, sinking back into his chair with an air of resignation.

"Fine. Fine." he continued, "this was left at reception." He handed the CD to Andrew. The boy - no, he was no longer a boy. The man - deserved his trust. He had been at AI since The Fall; since The Council had sent him to report on what was left behind; WHO was left behind. 

_Andrew and Faith had arrived in LA one month after The Fall. The Council had flown them over from England to assess the damage. Faith had been the first to find Angel, pulling him out from a sewer pipe, where he had been hiding from the fallout. Well, Faith had accused him of hiding. Angel, of course, maintained that he had simply needed a covert place to heal._   
_It was Andrew who had found Spike though. Spike wasn't in a good way. He had been injured badly in the fight and, when Andrew found him in a back alley filled with ashes and dust, he needed blood. Lots of it. He was weak and thin, and Angel had later told them that, if Andrew hadn't found him, Spike wouldn't have lasted the night._   
_Andrew had did find him though, and he had fed him. From his own wrist. Spike's demon rose quickly, ferociously drawing at the freely-flowing blood from the young man, but as Andrew spoke to Spike, he began to recognise the voice and managed to force the demon down, freeing Andrew's arm and pushing him away._

_"Don't ever do that again, you bloody idiot." Spike had yelled, scrabbling away from Andrew as his face shifted from demon to human and back again with an alarming unpredictability. "I could have killed you."_

_Andrew swallowed the words he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Spike that he would have died without it; without fresh human blood. Andrew couldn't allow that to happen. He wouldn't allow it. He would do the same thing again in a heartbeat._   
_But Andrew didn't say any of it. He kept quiet; waited for Spike to recover; to heal._

Andrew deserved trust and respect from Angel, but he hadn't received it freely. Angel had been suspicious of The Council's arrival, and that included Andrew. Six months later, however, Andrew had begun to prove himself, and it was this that convinced Angel to share this time around.

Andrew held his hand out for the CD and slipped it into the machine hidden behind a panel in the wall. It whirred into life and Andrew leaned over and clicked on the television above it. The screen hissed into life before it filled with an image that made all three men gasp a long breath (in Angel's case, unnecessarily) in shock.

There, on the screen, was Spike, naked and chained to a large stone table. Around him stood 3 men, two on one side and one on the other. One man was holding a long, sharp blade with an ornate handle.

Xander looked to Angel and back at the screen again. He knew that knife. He had seen it before. A Garchen's knife - used for demon sacrifice. He could see from Angel's face that he knew it too.

Xander turned back to the screen again as one man began to speak.

"Angelus..."


	8. Chapter 8

Video playback ended with a brief hiss as the screen reverted back to static before cutting to black. The silence was heavy in the room, hanging thickly between men and vampire with the only audible sounds being heavy breaths.

Xander looked at Andrew. His head was lowered, and he was fiddling with his own hands in his lap. Xander shook his head and turned his attention to Angel, who appeared to be struggling to hold his demon at bay.

"Where?"

Angel's face transformed and he stood quickly, knocking his chair over as he pushed it out behind him.

"He is NOT your concern, BOY." he spat, rounding the desk with preternatural speed and stopping in front of Xander's chair. Angel pulled the man up and out of the seat, grabbing his arms with such force that Xander couldn't pull free, much as he tried.

"He is MINE." 

Xander held his hands up weakly, in an effort to placate the vampire. His voice was small and hesitant. As he looked at Angel, he was seeing everything that made him nervous about the souled vampire.

"I just want to help." 

Angel dropped Xander's arms, pushing him away as he closed his eyes and turned his back, forcing his demon back down.

"I'm sorry, Xander." he finally said, daring to turn around and seeing Xander sit down on the sofa alongside Andrew who was beginning to fuss over the boy's bruised arms from the harsh treatment.

"I'm sorry." Angel repeated. He took his seat behind the desk again and shook his head.

"I haven't fed or slept enough recently." He ignored Andrew's eye roll at the admission, "And I am having trouble controlling it."

"It?" Xander questioned, standing up again and walking around to Angel's side of the desk. He stopped just short of the vampire, fear still evident on his features. "It..." he continued, with hesitant bravery, "...is YOU, Angel. If you can't control it, who can?"

Angel shook his head. He didn't know how to answer that. The past week... hell, the past year had been one long nightmare. He had lost everything and everyone he cared for and now... now, Spike was in danger. The only remaining family who he cared about. He had no idea where Dru was or what she was doing, but Spike... Spike, to Angel, was his childe. To hell with Drusilla and her lunatic ways. The bond between Angel and Spike would always be tighter and closer than that between Angel and Dru.

Dru was unsouled. She belonged to Angelus and his evil ways.   
Spike belonged to Angel. He needed to get him back.   
Whatever the cost.

"Xander, please sit down." Angel nodded towards Andrew on the sofa, and Xander, seeing Angel's calmer demeanour, rejoined him, his arms still extended in an gesture of submission.  
Andrew was chewing his bottom lip as he studied Angel. He hadn't ever really seen the vampire lose it like that other than during a fight. Angel looked tired and underfed and stressed. Not a good combination for any vampire.

"I don't know who these people are." Angel began, speaking as if the past few minutes hadn't happened at all. "All I have is a place, a time and a threat. And a name... of a victim... but I don't see what good that is." Angel fooled no one into thinking he kept track of his kills as Angelus. Even if Angelus had wanted to keep record, Angel blocked out those periods of his unlife. He had no idea who this Suzette person was, and he didn't recognise anybody in the video... except for Spike, of course.

Xander and Andrew exchanged a glance. One that said that both men knew when to speak up and when to keep quiet.

The ensuing silence urged Angel to continue.

"The note said to come alone. I can't tell you where I'm going. I can't risk Spike..." Angel stop, an unneeded breath caught in his throat. "I can't risk Spike like that. He's too vulnerable... like that." Angel's eyes flicked to the now-blackened television screen, remembering what he had seen: Spike, captured and restrained. So close to being gone. Too easily dusted. He closed his eyes once more and quashed the demon's imminent rise.

"You want us to just stay here and do nothing?"

Andrew's voice rose, evidence that he was reining in his alarm only barely. Xander was now the one biting his tongue, torn between his concern for Spike and the desire to just get in there and kick ass. After it became apparent that Angel wasn't going to respond to Andrew, Xander spoke up.

"You don't think that getting a team together would help?"

Angel would have laughed if he wasn't fighting so hard to control his demon, who wanted to break free and tear every living creature between here and the next city limb from limb at the threat to his family.

"Xander." he finally replied, standing again and facing the window, turning his back on the two men, "There IS no team. There's me. That's it. And Andrew and now you. What sort of help is that? Do you really think that we - me, you and Andrew - could fight these men and ensure Spike's safety? Because if you've got a plan that guarantees that we all get out alive, I'd fucking LOVE to hear it!"

Xander smarted at Angel's curse. He had never heard him swear in all the times they'd worked together in the past. Then again, he'd never been around Angel since Spike had been re-souled and returned from wherever he had gone after he burned saving Sunnydale and the world. He swallowed down the lingering bitterness at not being told that Spike had returned. What right had they to decide whether or not Xander would be interested? He was a Scooby, wasn't he?  
For a brief moment, he doubted whether he ever really was.  
But that was an inner battle for another day.

Andrew stood and headed towards the office exit, turning back to address Xander and Angel before leaving the room.

"If you need me, I'll be in the study. I shall go and see what I can find out about this Garchen's knife and put feelers out to see if anyone has had any dealings with anybody wanting to buy one lately."

With that, he pulled the door open and slipped into the darkness of the corridor, leaving behind only Angel and an increasingly uncomfortable Xander.  
Xander looked at Angel. The vampire looked tired as he turned back and stood in the middle of the room, almost hovering as if he didn't know what to do next.

What could he do to help?   
Could Xander be of any use at all?   
Wasn't this why he was here? In LA? To help Angel with cases?

Xander stood up and walked over to Angel, standing in front of the man as he gazed out into LA's night skies.

"He'll be OK, Angel."


	9. Chapter 9

Xander pushed open the kitchen door to find Andrew sitting at the table, mug of coffee in one hand and one of several large volumes in the other. He looked up as Xander entered, marking his place in the book with his fingers.

"There's more coffee in the pot." 

Xander nodded his thanks and walked over to the counter, pouring himself a large mug of the strong brew as Andrew returned to his book. He stopped a moment to wonder at the vast differences a couple of days make. 48 hours ago, he was hunting his own kitchen for an acceptably clean mug in which to pour weak-as-piss cheap instant coffee before sitting in his squalid flat, alone.

Now he was here, in LA, at Angel Investigations, surrounded by expensive furniture and a kitchen that seemed to have every gadget and gizmo known to man, including a coffee machine and heavenly coffee. The stuff was so good, he swore he could actually feel the caffeine flooding through his pores. The thought crossed his mind that maybe the coffee itself was enchanted or something. He couldn't bring himself to care.

Xander dropped himself down at the table opposite Andrew.

"Anything useful?"

Andrew shrugged without looking up.

"I made some calls. Archie at The Palace - demon bar a few blocks downtown - said a Reacher demon had come in asking about a Garchen's knife. Archie directed him to some dealer in the south quarter. He has no idea whether this demon was working for any humans though. Doesn't seem likely, but we can't rule out a connection. Reachers and humans don't usually work together, but he could have been paid just to obtain the knife, I suppose."

Andrew paused to look up at Xander, finding his expression flushed with concern.

"Reacher demon?" he finally said. It wasn't a demon he had previous come across and not a name he had heard before. Andrew pushed the book across to Xander, flicking it back a page as he did so.

"Human-like demon with certain powers. Preternatural speed - bit like a vampire - and mind control. Works something like a glamour on humans. Not so effective on demons and vampires. Tends to cause confusion and disorientation on them.They're like vampires, but without the whole blood drinking and snarly face thing. It can be pretty difficult to know if you've met one. Their mind control can often be used to mask any outwardly demon aspects or traits."

"Great." Xander scanned the pages and pushed the book back to Andrew. "So we're looking for a demon who looks like the other 3 million humans out there in LA then."

"Not exactly." Andrew's sounded far more upbeat than Xander felt, "That's the thing about these modern times, Xander: modern technology. The Palace has CCTV. Demons don't know about it obviously, and it doesn't pick up some of them - vampires and suchlike - but it does happen to see Reacher demons."

"We have a picture?" Xander was starting to feel more hopeful. If they could locate the demon, perhaps it would lead them to the others... and Spike.

Andrew nodded. "He emailed it through. It's not very clear, but it's probably good enough." He pulled it out from under a second book and passed it across to Xander who examined it closely.  
It was slightly grainy, zoomed in just that little bit too close for clarity, but the man's features were evident. Around 6 feet tall, long straggly dark hair, crooked - perhaps previously broken - nose, a slightly stooped-over posture. It was something. It was a start.

"And the knife?" The knife was Xander's real worry. He had come across a Garchen's knife while in Africa when they had inadvertently come across a demon burial site. He had researched it then, and right now wished he didn't know what it was.

"The Garcher's knife is, as you know, a knife for demon sacrifice. It's particularly brutal because it prevents the usual healing. In fact..." Andrew's voice fell quiet as he flicked open another book and referred to the script,"... it's often used on vampires to draw out torture and death. With no vampiric healing, a vampire can bleed out slowly."

Xander nodded knowingly. As soon as he had seen the knife on the video, his stomach had lurched. It was clear that Angel also recognised it for what it was. He hadn't said anything, but Xander could see it all over Angel's face, and he wondered whether the vampire had been on the giving or the receiving end of the knife in during his long demon past.

"So what's the plan then?" Xander pushed the books away and sat back in his chair, emptying his coffee mug and savouring the almost instant buzz it gave him.

"What did Angel say?" Andrew was wary of disobeying orders. Angel was, in effect, his boss. But he couldn't leave the vampire to walk into what was clearly a trap. If Angel really thought that these men would release Spike...

"He's adamant about going alone. He wouldn't even tell me where or when. I'm not sure what use we can be... unless we can find this Reacher, I suppose."

A grin crossed Andrew's face, and he pulled his cellphone from his pocket.

"Well, here again, Xander. The wonderful thing about modern technology. There's a tracker in Angel's cellphone."

"Angel has a cellphone?" The disbelief in Xander's voice was clear. Angel had a cellphone? Since when did vampires carry cellphones?

"He does, and although he doesn't know it, I can track it with mine." Andrew replied with a chuckle.

"Does Spike have a cellphone?" Xander asked hesitantly. Andrew's head shake confirmed Xander's fear.

"Said he had no use for such new-fangled technology. I tried slipping one into his duster once. Earned me a punch and a few days of silence. I never imagined that anything like this would happen, of course..."

Andrew tailed off, clearly struggling with the situation that Spike had found himself in. He considered Spike a good friend, and seeing him threatened; vulnerable... it was too much.

"Sounds like Spike." Xander admitted with both admiration and frustration in equal amounts. "So, do we follow Angel or ask around about this Reacher then?"

Andrew tapped at his phone and frowned at the screen for a moment.

"Angel hasn't left the building yet. So I say we head out and see if we can find out more about this Reacher until Angel makes a move."

Xander stood up, putting both mugs into the sink before turning back to Andrew again and both heading for the door.

"We'll need some weapons."


	10. Chapter 10

Angel checked the clock one more time. He needed to regroup before heading out to the warehouse. It was one of those rare times when he wished he'd paid closer attention when Dru had tried to teach him to meditate. If he couldn't keep his demon under control, he was putting both Spike and himself in danger.

He needed full control of his demon if he was going to get through this. Going in there fangs bared wasn't the answer. Angel wasn't a match for 3 grown men, especially three grown men with a Garchen's knife.

The knife. 

Angel sank back into his chair and drained his flask in one long pull. 

The knife really scared Angel. He thought back to times when he had crossed paths with a Garchen's in the past. First as Angelus, and only once more as a newly ensouled Angel. He shuddered at the last thought, pushing it aside as he tried to concentrate on what he remembered of using it as Angelus.

_"But she's so pretty. Like stars all twinkling together and singing to me."_  
 _Drusilla circled, eyes closed and arms open, twirling like a ballerina around the sobbing girl who was bound in the centre of the room._  
 _"Her eyes are talking to me." she continued, "Pretty little tunes... like angels."_

_She turned to Angelus who was sitting, watching with a smile as his childe circled their prey. He stood, extending a hand to her which she took, willingly allowing herself to be drawn into his grounding embrace._

_"Can we play with her now, Daddy?" Dru's voice sounded child-like as she brushed her lips across Angelus' cheek._

_Angelus turned, pressing his fanged lips to hers, devouring her mouth as he pressed her down onto the bed. Her childish giggle pierced through him, and his demon growled as he pressed his growing hardness against her._

_"Of course we can, my sweet thing." he whispered in her ear, pulling himself off her and walking over to a large table. Dru lay on the bed, her arms outstretched towards Angelus, almost beckoning him to come back._

_"Daddy will play with me afterwards? After her?" Dru sat up as she came back to herself, realising, even if only with a vague grasp of reality, that there were things that needed to be done first._

_Angelus lifted the knife from the table and flipped it over in his hands as he turned to face Dru with a smile. A smile that said not even wild horses could keep them apart after this was done. He approached the bound girl and threaded his fingers through her lank and knotted hair, pulling her head up to look at him._

_"Do you know what this is, girl?" he snarled, holding the knife in front of her face. Her eyes showed an intense fear, of Angelus, of the whole situation, and as they came to focus on the knife, her demon rose and she roared at him._

_Angelus dropped her head and laughed loudly, turning his head to Drusilla who had taken a position behind her Daddy, watching; waiting._

_"She knows what it is!" Dru sang, clapping excitedly. Angelus hummed. It was always so much more fun when they knew what to expect. Even vamped out, the fear in the girl's eyes was evident. That'd teach her for trying to take what belonged to Angelus then._

_Dru moved round to stand behind the girl, softly running her fingertips across the ridges of her face before crooking her fingers and carving almost symmetrical lines into the girl's cheeks with her long fingernails.  
Lifting her slender fingers to her mouth, she licked at the borrowed blood that stained the tips._

_"She tastes funny, Daddy." Dru whined, wrinkling her nose, "Like babies' breath and kitten smiles." She floated to Angelus' side, leaning her head against his shoulder._

_"Can I go first? Please, Daddy?"_

_Angelus pulled away from his childe and reached for a long hunting knife. As he pressed it into Dru's palm, he placed the Garchen's down onto the table._

_"Just don't dust her." he warned seriously, "She's here to learn a lesson about property. Slice her, cut her, do as you like, but when you're done with that one, we're going to make sure the Garchen's gives her something to really remember us by."_

_Dru's face lit up, and she turned to face the growling vampire girl bound to the chair, as Angelus settled back to watch the show._

The knife could be brutal. There was a story behind its power.

Garchen was an ancient demon.  
Legend had it, if you believe in that sort of thing, that he was a kind of demon god, the one responsible for giving demons their enhanced powers of healing. It was said that one day, he came home and found his wives in bed with two of his sons. He became so enraged that he reached for his hunting knife and, as he screamed spells of hatred and vengeance, he hacked them all where they lay.  
The wounds he had inflicted were widespread and long-lasting, refusing to heal even under Garchen's most ardent care and remorseful attention.  
Eventually, one of his sons attacked Garchen himself, using the same knife, and the story is that they all lived many years in prolonged agony from their many unhealing lesions before Garchen, in a fit of pain and rage, locked himself and his family in their home and set fire to it, burning them in their sleep.  
The knife was recovered many years later and demonstrated to have garnered particular powers during the attack.  
It became both feared and revered in the demon world.

Angel closed his eyes at the memories of the pain that knife could bring. He could see it with his own eyes. He saw her scream and thrash. He saw her blanch as her body was drained of the borrowed blood that gave her life. He watched her weaken, and heard himself laugh as her skeletal remains cried out for death.  
At this point, of course, Angelus fed her. Rat's blood that brought her back to a limp and pathetic excuse for her life, before he started all over again.

The knife terrified Angel. Even just seeing in in the same room as Spike scared him. If they wanted to, these men could ruin Spike; HIS Spike, and Angel knew.  
Not just because he had used it himself, but because he had once been almost ruined in exactly the same way.


	11. Chapter 11

"Andrew!"

Archie's greeting was both enthusiastic and uneasy. Andrew was a welcome guest at The Palace, but Archie always worried when he turned up in person. It usually meant nothing good. And it also wasn't too good for business. Many of the less regular demons tended to shy away when someone from Angel Investigations turned up. Despite this, Archie welcomed Andrew with a smile and the offer of a drink.

"One for your..." Archie hesitated, "...date?"

Andrew laughed loudly at Xander's surprised cough and splutter.

"Friend," he corrected, "and yes, please. The same."

Archie reached behind him for 2 glasses into which he poured from three different bottles, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Xander.

"Don't worry." Andrew reassured him, passing one of the glasses across, "This is the good stuff."

Xander raised his glass, sniffing at the green-ish blue-ish liquid and frowning at what looked like tendrils of orange smoke that rose from the rim. After a few seconds, he looked at Andrew and, seeing that his friend was about ready to down his concoction, Xander shrugged and raised his own.

"Bottoms up then." he quipped as he tipped back and drank.

As the mysterious cocktail slipped down his throat, Xander inhaled a long, gasping breath. 

"Holy fuck!" he exclaimed, "You weren't kidding."

Andrew chuckled. The drink was a particular favourite of his. It was a demon cocktail, obviously, but one which Andrew had found earned him a certain amount of respect from the locals in the bar. Always a good thing when he came in seeking just that little bit more information than was usually freely given.

"So," said Archie, gathering up the glasses and replacing them with two, more normal-looking pints, "I presume you are here for information?"

Xander opened his mouth to speak, giving his head a quick shake to clear it as he did.

"No, no." Archie held a hand up, "Don't tell me. The Reacher demon?" 

Xander closed his mouth again, sideways glancing at Andrew who nodded. 

"They have Spike."

Archie set down the glasses he was polishing and turned to give Andrew his full attention.

"They? The Reacher?"

Andrew shrugged.

"Not sure about the Reacher, but we do know that 3 humans with a Garchen's knife have him. I don't suppose you or any of your patrons..." Andrew cast his eyes about the bar, noting about eighteen different kinds of demon in various locations, at least half of which would betray a rival breed in a heartbeat. "I don't suppose anybody would know anything about this Reacher?"

Archie eyed his customers studiously, wondering which of the current crowd might know something.

"There's Bella. She's a half-witch. She was here when the Reacher came in. She has special..." he paused a moment, unsure how to explain, "she has a gift... she can see thoughts. She might remember something from the other night."

Andrew and Xander followed Archie's gaze over to a booth where a lady sat alone. She was tall, elegant, dark and mysterious. Pretty stereotypical, Xander thought until she raised her head to meet the six eyes on her. Four of them looked away abruptly, Xander's remained fixed on what could well have been the most incredible face he had ever seen.

"She can read minds?" He could barely form the question in his head, let alone say it.

"Not read minds, see thoughts." The calm, melodious voice whispered from behind him, breath so close to his ear that he almost felt as if it were his own. Xander turned around and blinked before his face transformed into a confused frown as he looked from Bella to Archie.

"How did...?" The question went unfinished. Archie returned to serving customers, and Andrew just smiled and shrugged.

"You have questions for me?" Bella's voice was like honey, smooth and sweet, it almost sang. "About the Reacher? And the knife?"

Xander began to wonder if he needed to say anything at all, and he almost hoped not, given that he was having trouble forming any words whatsoever.

"Our friend is in danger." Andrew helpfully filled in, clearly unaffected by Bella's presence.

"William?" Bella nodded and moved to stand between the two men. 

She remembered the Reacher in the bar. He had asked about a Garchen's knife and had been referred to Boris' place in the South quarter. Bella knew of both Boris and the knife. She'd never used or seen the knife in the flesh, but legend told her all she needed to know. As soon as she had seen the knife in the Reacher's mind, her senses had remained alert. Anybody looking for a Garchen's knife was, for sure, also looking for trouble. She'd politely dismissed her table companion and seated herself at the bar with the excuse of another drink. What she'd seen from the Reacher after that, she remembered very clearly.

"Spike." Andrew confirmed, "Yes. He's a friend."

"A vampire friend?" Bella's look was questioning, but she didn't wait for a response before she continued herself. "Ahhhh." She smiled warmly at Andrew. "Right, I see."

Xander looked from one to the other and cleared his throat as if trying to break in to some moment between the two.

"Errr," he stammered, still scrabbling for words. "What exactly do you see?"

Andrew looked momentarily embarrassed, but Bella reassured him with a glance and a smile.

"Your Reacher was working with 3 humans. He quite clearly showed me a warehouse, but I confess that I did not recognise its name. Machins or Marchins or something? The signage was old and unclear, and I have no idea where it might be. Looked like an old storage warehouse or something, with smaller rooms and dark corridors. Perhaps it means something to you?"

Xander shook his head absently, the effects of Bella still addling his mind. Andrew looked thoughtful as he turned to Archie.

"Hey Archie," he began, cutting through the bar noise to shout across to the bartender, "Machin's old warehouse. That's in Dervish, isn't it?"

"Reckon so, yeah." Archie wandered over, pouring out three shots of something dark and purple as he came. "Dervish used to be popular with the demon types. Particularly the empaths wanting some quiet from human noise. The whole quarter is pretty deserted nowadays though."

He pushed the drinks out towards Xander, Andrew and Bella.

"On the house." he said, smiling as he drifted along to the other end of the bar to serve.

Xander eyed the new drink cautiously, noticing Bella's broad grin out of corner of his eye.

"One of my favourites." she winked at him, downing her shot in one and turning to returning to her booth. "You boys take care, ok? Dervish is no place for humans."

Andrew nodded vacantly and lifted his glass to clink against Xander's before both men raised, drained and downed the drink swiftly.

"Wow!" Andrew wheezed as the hot liquid swam through his body, seemingly filling every vein, every nerve and every muscle.

Xander hmmed his approval and placed his glass back on the bar decisively as he stood.

"So," he said hoarsely, his throat tight from the potent brew, "We're gonna need weapons."


	12. Chapter 12

Heat; fire; agony; blinding pain. Cutting; searing through him.

It almost felt like it was happening to somebody else; as if Spike was hovering over himself, watching it all... until he came crashing back down and felt it. Really felt it, in every nerve ending and every cell in his body.  
He pulled at the chains with a roar that would have woken the dead and undead alike, as he twisted and turned in an effort to avoid the knife.  
More fire as it effortlessly swept across from hip to hip. So close. Dangerously close to... Spike didn't allow himself to even think it.

Jeff stepped back, admiring his handiwork, and Avery and Marcus approached Spike's sides from their positions of observation.

"I think that's enough for now." Jeff announced coldly. Avery nodded as he examined the carvings. They weren't deep. The Garchen's knife didn't need much pressure to break skin and cause irreparable damage. He could just make out what had been traced with the tip in amongst the rivers of blood that flowed freely from the markings.

In addition to the cross that Jeff had carved on camera, Spike's torso now displayed a large letter S, for Suzette, an equally large J, for Avery's daughter Jess, and a symbol that ran from hip to hip and looked like a key on its side. It was a symbol found on the Garchen's knife, and it supposedly ensured that the knife's powers remained active, preventing complete healing for the remainder of the victim's life (or unlife, in Spike's case).

It was this symbol, when sliced through the delicate flesh of Spike's abdomen, that had brought Spike out of his vampire healing deep sleep. The creation of it caused the most agonising pain from which some were rumoured to have suffered fatal heart attacks. If Spike'd had a heart, of course... He was condemned to pass out instead.

Jeff had been careful though, cutting precisely and smoothly, and he now nodded to himself, satisfied that he had done what was required.

From his position behind Spike's head, the Reacher stepped forwards, cocking its head sideways as it examined the marks. Avery and Marcus stepped back with a respectful nod, allowing the Reacher to circle their captive.

"Nice work." he hissed, running a finger through the darkening blood that was now running in rivulets down Spike's sides and pooling on the stone table. He lifted bloodied fingers to his lips, brushing over them with his tongue, to the disgust of the onlooking humans.

"Very nice." he purred. "Very powerful vampire." 

The Reacher nodded, impressed. He had taken something of a back seat to the whole operation, after sourcing the knife for three men who had approached him one evening saying he had been "recommended" to them. He had been contracted to find a suitable location to which they could bring Spike, to locate the Garchen's knife and to remain present in case his powers had been required. He had found Spike quite easy to confuse, in fact. The addition of his human soul had ensured that the Reacher's "reach" was deeper than if he had remained a true soulless vampire.  
The Reacher suspected that Spike could be, if needed, remarkably suggestible. He kept that information to himself, as security.  
The three men had done well though. They had acted with far more callousness and determination than the Reacher would have thought possible by mere humans, never hesitating or backing down from what needed to be done. Vengeance was a powerful thing.

The Reacher slipped back into position behind Spike, and Avery and Marcus once more took their positions either side. Avery glanced at his watch before turning to Jeff.

"Do you think Angelus will come?" He'd been certain, when they started. Certain that Angelus would rush in to rescue his grand-childe within minutes of receiving the video message. As time went on and the hours ticked by however, he began to wonder. Where was the possessive Angelus come to claim what was his? The vicious killer hell-bent on vengeance?

Jeff thought for a while before slowly nodding.

"I have to admit, I thought he'd be here sooner, but I'm certain he'll come. If this William is as powerful as you say he is, Angelus won't let him go without a fight. I'm sure of it."

The Reacher made a sudden and loud inhuman noise. Something between a barking laugh and a purr. The unusual nature of the sound caused all three men to turn to him with questioning looks. He raised his hands placatingly.

"My apologies, gentlemen." he began, his tone returning to human as he spoke, "I forget my company."

Marcus shrugged. "Don't matter to us, Reacher." Avery nodded, and Jeff held up a hand dismissively.

"You're right about Angelus though." the Reacher continued, composing himself, "He will come. Even ensouled, he feels for this vampire. I can sense it within him." 

As he spoke, the Reacher extended a hand and brushed it across Spike's face, his ridges having softened as his vampiric healing sleep attempted to fix the damage. 

"I sense many unlikely bonds with this one too. Not just with his sire. Grand-sire." he corrected himself, "There are numerous human bonds too. I suppose this shouldn't come as a surprise though. This vampire is souled and has worked alongside humans for some time."

"A mate?" Marcus asked curiously. Could a vampire even mate with a human? He supposed that both species shared the same anatomy, but the mere thought of it made his stomach turn, and his face reflected his revulsion.

"A human mate?" This wasn't something the Reacher had considered. He tipped his head, trying to reach into the vampire's mind a little more. The deep, almost meditative sleep that Spike was currently in made reaching him easier, but his mind was a jumble of images and feelings, and a Reacher's talents usually lay more in the controlling and suggesting than actually reading. After a few moments of silence, the Reacher shook his head.

"I don't believe so." He couldn't be certain. Maybe it had just been a long time, but he couldn't grasp any human mating connection within Spike's mind. Time faded these things though. Time and trauma. And this vampire had seen a lot of both.

Jeff cleared his throat authoritatively.

"Right, it's nearly time up for Angelus. Avery and Marcus, take your positions outside. I'll keep watch on the door. Reacher, you know what to do?"

The Reacher nodded, and Avery, Marcus and Jeff all headed down the corridor to lay in wait.  
Angelus would be coming soon, and they'd need to be ready for him when he did.


	13. Chapter 13

**Year 1899**

Angel jumped up as the horse and carriage thundered past him, splashing rainwater into the alley entrance where he had been huddled under boxes.

Hunger. He needed to feed. He needed...  
The demon rose and he roared, eyes frantically searching for a victim; a meal.

"No, no, no!" the soul screamed. "No more."

Angel flung himself back against the blackened bricks and slid down the wall, curling himself into a ball and banging his head repeatedly onto his knees.

"Make it stop... make them stop... no more..." He chanted over and over, his mind in torment as the soul and the demon battled it out.

"You OK?"

The female voice was almost drowned out by Angel's own mutterings. She took a hesitant step forwards, one arm extended as a gesture of peace.

"Do you need anything?"

Another step closer. If she leaned forwards, she could reach the top of Angel's rain-drenched hair.  
Angel lifted his face from his knees, blinking raindrops from his eyelashes.

He wanted to shake his head; to shoo her away, getting her out of harm's...

The demon sprung up, grabbing petite arms and slamming her back against the opposite wall. As her head cracked against the damp brickwork, she let out a muffled shout before losing consciousness.

Angel jumped back, dropping the girl abruptly to the ground and frantically backing away until he was against the opposite wall again.

"No... no... no..." he cried out to no one, "no more... please..."

He pushed off from the wall again, exiting the alley in a blind panic. He needed to get out of here; needed to get away; away from people. He ran to the sewer entrance, pulling open the cover and disappearing down and out of the rain. He stopped a minute to regain unneeded breath, looking up and down the dark, musky tunnels, checking for other demons. The tunnel appeared to be empty, and Angel straightened himself up and began walking, his eyes to the ground in his hunt for food.

Rats. Sewer rats, house rats, factory rats.   
They had become Angel's diet since the soul. The demon screamed and roared in his head as he fed but Angel blanked it, making it angry and frustrated as the bitter taste of rat blood barely kept them fed. Three rats and the demon stopped fighting, slipping back down as the soul took over, leaving Angel weeping and dirty in an above-ground doorway.

"Oi, vagrant." A man's gruff voice shouted from a window nearby, "Ya cannot stop there."

Angel ignored the voice in favour of hunkering down in the closed shop doorway, out of the rain.  
A moment later, the door behind him swung inwards causing Angel to stumble inside what appeared to be some sort of chemist's shop.

"I said," the man approached, grabbing Angel by the shirt and pulling him up, "Ya cannot stay there. This is my place an' I won't tolerate no vagrants 'round here."

Angel yanked himself out of the man's grip and turned to square up to him. He knew he should have turned and ran, but the demon's will to fight was strong, even as weak as he was. As his face ridged and teeth dropped, and man took a large step backwards, fear evident but surprise not. He'd seen vampires and demons. He'd seen too many of them. Fought too many of them. He scanned the shop for something to use as a weapon and smiled when his eyes fell on an old knife almost within arm's reach on the counter. It was a new arrival, a Garchen's knife, brought in by a young man looking to make some swift cash. It was the kind of thing he was known for trading in, old and unusual items, magical, mystical and suchlike.   
He hoped with all his might that the legend and rumours about this Garchen's knife were true. He was about to find out.

As he lunged for the knife, Angel stepped forwards, only able to grab one arm. The man swung round with the other, lifting the knife high before plunging it into the demon's side, making him stumble back roaring.

In a moment of complete madness, the man reached for the door, slamming it closed and locking both himself and the demon inside his small chemist and curiosity shop. It was time for revenge. Revenge for all the horrors he had seen and the people he had lost. 

Angel dropped to the ground, still reeling from the agony thundering through him from the stab wound, and the demon receded. His head was swimming, unfocussed and disoriented. So much pain from one laceration. He knew. The demon knew what he was up against and, in that moment, both demon and soul felt fear.

" **Now** do I have your attention, vampire?" the man spoke calmly, unafraid of the cowering demon crouched in the corner of his store. The vampire looked confused and distracted, and the man took a moment to study the knife in his hands. He hadn't expected such an extreme instant reaction from the vampire when he had plunged it into the demon's torso, and the sight of the being now trembling in the corner led him to believe there might be some truth in the object's stories.

He cautiously approached the now-human form. It was sitting with its arms wrapped around its knees, muttering to itself and certainly didn't appear to be registering the man's presence. The random chattering continued as the being's body rocked back and forth, almost trance-like.

The man studied the knife again and took a step closer to the demon. He wanted to see the power of this knife again, to be certain. What other opportunities would he have? To prove the power of the Garchen's knife once and for all. It was something many of the people in his circle would be interested in seeing. If he could get to Maurice while the vampire was distracted...

He glanced towards the back of the shop, where a corridor connected his store to the the hostelry owned by his friend Maurice. He and his group would definitely want to see this. He took a calculated risk and headed out the back towards Maurice's entrance.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this update being a little late. I'm kinda distracted visiting my sister in the UK this week, and it's her birthday today!
> 
> Anyways, better late than never :)

Angel studied the map carefully. He knew roughly where Dervish quarter was, but he wanted to check the lay of the land before heading out into unfamiliar, hostile territory.

Dervish was an area once owned and run by the notorious Dervish family, before the demons moved in and the humans moved on. Even mob bosses knew better than to try to fight demons for the land. A few were initially kept on as peacekeepers between the two communities but, for the most part, the humans had abandoned Dervish long ago. Even the demons didn't stick around there much any more, leaving it to crime and misuse.  
It was a wonder that Angel hadn't had cause to visit it sooner really.

He pushed open the door to the office and opened his weapons chest, choosing carefully. Fighting humans was not his usual thing. Usually, he'd be fighting demons and monsters, beasts with a weakness, but today he had humans to consider. That should have made it easier. Humans were weak; fragile; mortal, but these humans were different. They were driven by vengeance, and that made them stronger; more determined.

Angel loaded a pistol from the chest and pocketed extra ammo. It was the best he could think of. If all else failed, he could shoot his way out... he hoped. He pulled a few additional items out and placed them into various inner pockets in his coat. He wasn't really sure what he was up against apart from three humans. Maybe this would go better than he was dreading. Three humans, two vampires (once Angel had worked to free Spike, at least). Could be worse.

He surveyed the office one last time before standing straight and resolute and placing his phone down on the table behind him.

It was time to do this.  
It was time to get his Spike back.

*****************************************************

"What do we need?" Xander asked, realising that he was woefully ill-experienced to battle either humans or Reacher demons.

Andrew lifted the lid to the weapons chest and frowned. Angel had already been in it, and he could tell that several things were missing. He quickly unpocketed his phone and opened the tracking app: it showed Angel as still in the building, in the office, in fact.

Turning his back briefly on Xander and his question, Andrew scanned the office for Angel's phone, finding it sitting on the desk. He reached over to pick it up and noticed a single piece of paper folded underneath it. His shoulders slumped as he realised what that meant.

_Andrew,_

_I knew about the phone._   
_You're both safer here._   
_Don't do anything stupid._

_A_

"Dammit!" Andrew cursed, passing the note across to Xander who took it with a slightly bemused expression.

"Don't do anything stupid?" he exclaimed, after reading it through and catching up with what that meant. "I see Angel still doesn't take his own advice then."

Andrew returned to the weapons chest and began hunting through for items they needed. The pistol was gone so he pulled out the backup weapon. It was a larger rifle. Not ideal but it'd have to do.

"Reachers can't be killed just by inflicting mortal wounds." Andrew finally said, answering the question that Xander had almost forgotten even asking, "We need to specifically target between the eyes. They are the source of the Reacher's power and loss of these results in loss of life." He glanced over at Xander as he spoke, wincing with the realisation that the whole eye thing might be a bit close to home for his one-eyed friend.

"Sorry." he mumbled, passing a sheathed knife across to Xander. "I didn't think."

Xander shrugged, pocketing the knife in the inside of his jacket and looking quizzically at Andrew who was now passing him another object: a stake.

"Just in case." Andrew replied, as if it fully answered the unspoken question. Xander's continued look of bewilderment prompted Andrew to expand further.

"The Garchen's knife is a heinous thing." he continued, slipping more weapons and a second stake into his own jacket. "If Spike has been tortured too much for too long..." He didn't finish the sentence, the rest of it hanging heavy and unspoken between them. It was a worst case scenario. They both knew it.

"I don't know if..." Xander shook his head, looking at the stake in his hand with horror.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that then." Andrew's voice was calm, much calmer than Xander felt with the discussion of dusting an old friend. 

"There's no..." Xander fumbled for the word he was looking for, "... no cure for Garchen's knife then?" He knew he was grasping at straws now, but despite the length of time since he had been acquainted with Spike, he suddenly felt very afraid that, regardless of the outcome of the meeting, Spike would still come out suffering.

Andrew closed the lid on the weapons chest and tipped his head towards the door, indicating for Xander to follow.

"We'll talk en route." he said, pulling open the office door and heading towards the building exit. "If Angel has decided to go all guns blazing, perhaps literally, then time is of the essence. We need to get to the warehouse."

They didn't know how much of a head start Angel had on them, and the last thing they wanted was to arrive as back-up too late. Xander quashed down the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as his mind once more began working on worst case scenarios.

"The Garchen's knife's properties are the result of a spell; a curse, if you like. There's usually some way to break a curse."

Xander nodded knowingly, recalling just how many curses the Scoobies had broken over the years. Angel's, for one.

"A powerful enough sorcerer... or a witch, perhaps... could possibly break it." Andrew continued, "But it wouldn't be easy. It might come with..." he paused for a moment, whether in thought or for dramatic effect, Xander wasn't sure, "... it could come with consequences. Unforeseen after effects."

"Right." Xander mumbled, following Andrew out of the building and into the cool night air, suddenly grateful for the jet-lag and good coffee that was currently keeping him awake and alert.

"So, let's hope for the best then."


	15. Chapter 15

Angel slowed his approach as he neared the block where Machin's was located. He stood for a while, surveying the area for look-outs and dangers.  
His vampire senses located two men outside, both watching the warehouse entrance. Perhaps, if he disabled these two first, he could handle a one-on-one inside. Feeling for the pistol in his pocket, he weighed up his alternatives.  
If these were demons, this would be much easier. He could kill them, removing the danger, and move inside.  
But these weren't demons. These were humans, and Angel didn't kill humans lightly. Despite the danger to Spike and himself, he refused to go in shooting randomly.  
He felt around to another pocket and removed a tranquilliser dart. Usually pretty ineffective on demons, but on humans, it was a better option.

Approaching the closest man to him, Angel slipped into stealth mode, vamping out to ensure his senses were at their most alert. He slowly crept behind his target and, when a suitable distance away, deployed the dart. The man cried out and fell to the ground in an instant, and Angel was immediately on guard for a counter-attack from the second man. 

When it didn't come, he was immediately suspicious. Surely, he'd heard the first guy shout out? Angel vamped out his human senses again, detecting a faint rustle from the rusted metal stairs behind him. He couldn't dart someone behind him but maybe he could avoid attack and fight another way... without killing them? It was seeming less and less likely that the whole incident would go without fatalities.

Footsteps approached, muffled but audible to vampire hearing, and Angel prepared himself. As the steps came close, he swung around, planting a tough left hook on the would-be assailant. It was enough to floor the man, after which Angel could and did dart him.

Right, he thought. Now it's just me against one.

Angel located the main door to Machin's and pushed it open, securing the pistol in his right hand as he did so.

***************************************

"Is it much further?"

Andrew rolled his eyes at Xander's question. Maybe it would have been simpler to have got a cab at least partway, but Andrew wanted to keep his bearings, to ensure that, when the time came to run, they headed out of and not deeper into demon territory.

"Couple of minutes." Andrew's reply was gruff and impatient, and he wrapped his fingers around the rifle stock, reassuring himself.

Xander straightened his shoulders and nodded. He wasn't usually so lacking in stamina but recent months of inactivity and excess had left him unfit and out of practise. If it weren't so important, he would probably have sat this one out, resumed the training that he had been accustomed to doing while in Africa and jumped in on the next case, but well, this was Spike. 

Xander nearly walked into Andrew who had stopped suddenly in front of him, holding his arm up in a silent "Stop and shush" command. He turned and looked over his shoulder at Xander.

"You see that?" he asked in a whisper, motioning his head towards the bodies of two men lying about 10 metres ahead of them. Xander nodded mutely.

"Looks like Angel is already here. We need to be careful. There's one more guy inside and possibly the Reacher."

Xander pulled out a knife, suddenly feeling woefully unprepared and inadequate as they began walking towards the main warehouse door. Andrew pushed it open and the two men began slowly and silently creeping along a dimly lit corridor. They could see light coming from a room around 20 metres ahead, and as they approached, a sudden noise made both men stop dead in their tracks.

******************************************

Angel followed the light along the corridor, slowing and extending his vampire senses as he got closer. He could make out one set of pacing footsteps  but nothing else. Spike, he assumed, must be unconscious, because he doubted very much that an awake Spike would be a quiet one. He furrowed his ridged face into a concentrated frown. There was something else he could sense. Something different. It wasn't the human, and it wasn't Spike. He took a few steps closer to the half-open doorway in an effort to get a clearer sense of what it was, and, in a split second, the door opened fully and Angel found himself face to face with two men and a gun. One man, who he recognised from the video and someone... something else.

"In."

The instruction was firm and determined, and Angel, seeing Spike bound to the table behind the men, nodded mutely and took the remaining steps into the room.

"Don't do anything stupid, Vampire." Jeff growled, pushing the door closed slightly and flicking his gun towards the far side of the room, indicating for Angel to move. 

Angel followed the direction, without taking his eyes from the second man, finding himself positioned on the far side of the table to the two men. Even in his vamped out form, he could not work out what it was about this man. Was it a man? He tried to sense demon from him but, the harder he tried, the more he was struggling to sense anything at all.

The man turned from Angel, crossed to where Jeff was standing and whispered something to the larger man. Jeff nodded and lowered his gun as the strange man walked over to Spike's side.

Angel was watching the actions of the men closely and was slightly startled when the second man spoke for the first time.

"Angelus." he began, his eyes focussed intently on Spike's face as he spoke, "I can feel you... sensing me." His face transformed into something Angel could only describe as a smirk. The Reacher tipped his head, sideways looking at the elder vampire.

"Reacher demon." He helpfully answered the unasked question, giving Angel a look as he waited to see if that meant anything to him.

Angel frowned and let his vampire mask recede. A Reacher demon. Reachers were not a common breed of demon, and he had only ever come across a Reacher once. In fact, Angelus had hired one during his early days of training and breaking Drusilla. The effects of the Reacher, on the fragile mind of the young Dru, had been astonishing. It had amplified the damage that Angelus was able to do almost hundredfold.

Angel lifted his head and studied the Reacher closely. Could it be?   
As he stared, the penny dropped, and he found himself looking at a face that he only barely recognised from almost 150 years ago.


	16. Chapter 16

**Year 1862**

"Make them stop. Daddy, Daddy, make them stop, please."

Drusilla curled in on herself, wrapping her hands around her head in a desperate attempt to stop the voices and images in her head.

"Daddyyyyyy." she whined, her head swaying beneath her hands and tears falling from under her dark hair.

The Reacher glanced across to Angelus who sat in the corner on a throne-like chair, a bored-looking Darla at his side. Angelus shook his head, and the Reacher turned back to his subject. He rarely worked on contract for anybody, much less vampires, and he was beginning to get uncomfortable with the sheer depth of terror that his current subject was beginning to display. He had been promised much wealth if he could break this young childe and, while it wasn't the kind of job he would normally take on, Angelus had made it all too clear that it wasn't optional. The choice had been clear: Work hard and be handsomely paid for it or die. Simple. Nobody argued with the House of Aurelius. That's just how it was.

The Reacher extended back into Drusilla's mind, pulling forth a memory of her parents before they rejected her and her powers. As a fond smile crept across the young girl's face, the Reacher reached in and warped the memory, replacing her parents with Angelus and Darla. It was a difficult thing to pull off but he managed it, leaving the dark haired vampire distraught and Darla chuckling. The newly turned Drusilla's mind was still so human-like and susceptible.

"There, there, my sweet thing." Darla cooed, approaching her broken grand-childe and stroking her hand through Drusilla's long dark locks. "Let us make it all better."

She pulled Dru into her arms, pressing the young girl close to her breast, her frantic sobs bringing Darla almost to a point of euphoria. Angelus stood and approached the two woman, dismissing the Reacher with a simple flick of the hand.

"Same time tomorrow then, sir." the Reacher responded, wondering how much more he could do with such a broken subject. He nodded to the vampire and left hastily, not wanting to witness any more horror.

Angelus grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Dru's head up, looking into her bloodshot eyes.

"You did well, my dear." he told her, his tone patronising and smug. "You want to be good for Daddy, don't you?"

Dru keened and leant into the touch of her sire. Darla stood, rolling her eyes.

"Do we really have to keep doing this?" she complained, flinging Drusilla away from her and into Angelus' arms. "I think you pretty much broke her before you sired her. Why carry this on?"

Angelus shrugged. He'd known that his behaviour before he turned Dru had damaged her irreparably, but he couldn't help wanting more. The Reacher had come highly recommended as being highly capable of breaking a human's psyche and Angelus just couldn't resist seeing what more damage could be done. It was fun watching the young childe writhe and scream as she was tormented with memories and visions, some real, some fabricated, and Angelus loved to see her throw herself at him for comfort and security. It was a beautiful thing.

He ran his hand down her back, feigning reassurance and comfort. Dru responded the way she always did, pressing herself against her sire and looking at him with a raw need and want. Angelus loved this. He loved the Drusilla; the childe that he had created: needy; desperate; wanting; his. Only his.

Angelus turned to Darla, his own sire.

"I think the Reacher is done now." he conceded, stroking his fingers down Drusilla's cheekbones and sliding them between her ready and willing lips. "Make sure he doesn't come back."

Darla nodded knowingly. Despite being Angelus' sire, she knew when to assert herself and when not. They both knew that when Angelus said this, it meant that the Reacher would not only be unpaid for his loyal service but that Darla had free reign to do whatever she deemed necessary to "convince" the Reacher that this was the way things would be. She hummed softly. She happened to know that this particular Reacher had a life partner, a fellow Reacher, and Reachers were a rare breed themselves. Finding a compatible mate, well, that was almost unheard of.

Darla knew exactly what Angelus was asking of her, and, as she slipped out of the building, she heard the beautiful muted sounds of her grand-childe submitting to her childe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being a day late.  
> I'm still catching up from being in the UK.


	17. Chapter 17

The Reacher laughed as recognition spread across Angel's face. It had been a long time. Too long. He'd spent the early years keeping out of the Aurelius clan's way, but as time went on, he had become more and more bitter and vengeful. When he had eventually tracked Angelus down to LA, the Reacher had followed and settled, getting his name and abilities out there. Angelus had a reputation and a history that had left him with many enemies. Most wouldn't dream of fighting back while the vampire was unsouled, of course, but with his soul, Angel was a much easier, much softer target.

"You..."

Angel knew he sounded ridiculous. He couldn't quite grasp that, after all these years, nearly 150 of them, the Reacher was still around. The Reacher rolled his eyes and dropped his gaze from Angel's, peering down at Spike and squinting as he tried to scan the unconscious vampire's mind. The Garchen's knife had done considerable damage. Spike's body was thick in blood, which had oozed from unhealed cuts and slipped across his paling skin.

"The vampire is underfed." The Reacher stated the obvious and Angel glared at him. Spike looked painfully thin and pallid. He was very obviously near his limit of blood loss, especially given that he had been captured for at least a day, and Angel doubted that his captors had bothered to feed him. He felt his demon rise angrily, wanting retribution for Spike's suffering. Angel closed his eyes and forced it down. It wouldn't help to lash out right now.

"Where have Marcus and Avery got to?" Jeff mumbled to himself, not really expecting a response. He had expected his friends to follow Angel into the warehouse on his arrival and, as the minutes ticked by, their absence was unsettling. Jeff hadn't expected it to be just him and the Reacher against the vampire. He was neither ready for or happy with that combination.

Angel opened his eyes again, glaring directly at Jeff as he spoke and deliberately not hiding the smug look that crept across his face.

"I see." Jeff nodded. This was how it was going to be then. He approached the Reacher and, without taking his eyes off Angel, whispered into the demon's ear. The Reacher nodded. Jeff handed the Reacher the Garchen's knife and Angel's stomach lurched when he saw it.

Jeff moved back towards the door, slamming it closed, and the Reacher stood a few paces back from Spike. 

This was plan B. It had been discussed. There was always a plan B and now seemed to be the time to put it into action.

**********************************

The corridor, where Andrew and Xander were standing, plunged suddenly into darkness.

"Shit!" Andrew cursed, scrabbling in his bag for the flashlights. He handed one to Xander and both men clicked on their own. They had hoped not to use them, fearing they would be spotted in the darkness of the warehouse, but now they had little choice. They were not far from the doorway, and with the door closed, at least they were less likely to be noticed.

The two men crept the remaining 15 metres and stopped outside the doorway. It opened away from them, into the room, which could help their surprise attack, if it came to that.

"What now?" Xander asked. Really, there hadn't been any great master plan. They had been prepared to head to the warehouse and provide Angel with backup, if he needed it but, right there right then, they suddenly felt woefully unprepared for a fight.

"As far as we know, we have them outnumbered." Andrew replied, keeping his voice low and hushed in the dark quiet of their surroundings. "There's the Reacher and one man inside. Plus Angel and Spike. So, we're 3 against 2, even if Spike is..." he paused and took a deep breath before he could continue, "... even if Spike is still incapacitated."

Xander nodded. It was likely that Spike was still out of action. They couldn't hear much sound from the room. There had been muffled voices on their approach but, now that the door had been closed, it was difficult to make out any noises at all.

"Is the Reacher a danger to us?" Xander asked hesitantly, wondering if they should have tried to find something that might protect them against the demon's reach. 

Andrew shrugged in the dim light.

"It's possible. He might be less of a danger to Spike or Angel but a Reacher's power can be quite strong against humans. For that reason, I think we need to concentrate our attack against the Reacher first. Let Angel deal with the human."

"Makes sense." Xander replied, reaching around and pulling the knife from his jacket pocket.

"OK then." he finally said, taking a deep breath himself and straightening up, armed and as ready as he could be for action. "Let's do this."

**************************************

"This isn't exactly what we had originally planned." The Reacher stepped around the large stone table, where Spike was lying, and slowly approached Angel, concentrating hard as he tried to feel for Angel's mind

"You can't completely block me out, vampire." he spat. He might not have the same effect on vampires as he did on humans, but he knew that he could reach them, with effort. "I'll reach you somehow."

Angel shook his head. It felt woolly and thick. As though a cloud of smoke had settled in his mind and was weaving through his thoughts. He failed to suppress his demon as it rose, roaring loudly.

"There you are." the Reacher smiled, extending his hand and cocking his head slightly as the demon quietened in confusion.

Angel looked down at the hand the Reacher was holding out to him. In it sat the Garchen's knife. Angel ridged face furrowed in further confusion. He wanted to take the knife. He wanted to take it, but he didn't know why.

The Reacher nodded. It was working. He inched closer to Angel, waiting for him to reach out.

"Take it." he said, reaching into the mind to give one last instruction as Angel's hand quickly lifted the knife from the outstretched hand.

"Take it..." he repeated, giving a quick glance to Jeff who responded with a brief nod, "... and kill your childe."


	18. Chapter 18

Angel took a step forward, the knife raised in a shaking hand, and the Reacher stepped backwards, putting distance between himself and the confused demon. His effect on vampires was always unpredictable, and he didn't want to be within reach of Angel right now. The Reacher stood near the door, subtly putting Jeff between himself and the action. Jeff, in his wide-eyed anticipation, did not notice.

Angel took the final step towards Spike, stopping next to the table and tilting his head with a ridged frown. He looked inquisitively at the knife in his hand before turning to Spike with a smile. His boy looked so peaceful, even in this state. In his healing deep slumber, there was an air of calm that rarely surrounded Spike in his wakefulness.

Jeff took a step closer, curiosity getting the better of him. Angel looked almost in a trance-like state as he silently studied Spike. He was about to take a second step towards the vampires when the door that he had been standing next to flew open, pushing Jeff against the table as it swung violently inwards.

Angel's head jerked upwards as he found himself distracted by the sudden intrusion.

"What the...?"

Angel lurched at Jeff, grabbing the man's arm with one of his large hands and forcing him back against the stone table, bumping Spike's feet. Andrew and Xander entered and Xander quickly located the Reacher near the door. He swiftly unsheathed the knife and, as Andrew pulled the demon into a crippling arm-lock - _Where did Andrew learn to do that?_ \- Xander came around and stood in front of the Reacher.

"You OK over there, Angel?" Xander called across to the vampire, not taking his eyes from the Reacher who was strangely silent.

Angel grunted as he pushed his own demon back down and took stock of their current situation. He tightened his grip on Jeff, holding the Garchen's knife to the man's throat. Jeff struggled helplessly against Angel's strong grasp.

"You know exactly what this knife is capable of, human." Angel spat, "I recommend that you stay still."

"We need to..." Andrew began speaking to Xander. Time was of the essence now, and they needed to disable to Reacher quickly before he could affect either of his human assailants.

Xander nodded and raised the knife. Between the eyes. They were going to kill this demon. It'd been years since Xander'd had to kill anything bigger than a cockroach and he momentarily stalled.

"Dammit, Xan." Andrew cursed, and the Reacher reached into him, releasing Andrew's arms and quickly reversing them, pulling the smaller man into a painful arm-lock against which Andrew made no effort to struggle.

"Shit." Xander hesitated a moment. He couldn't delay longer, he had to do this. If he didn't disable the Reacher, all four of them would be in danger.

"Drop the knife, vampire." The Reacher demanded, his eyes fixed on Angel and the knife at Jeff's throat. Angel fought unsuccessfully against the urge to loosen his grip on the Garchen's knife and Xander heard it drop to the floor seconds later.

 _Now or never_ , Xander told himself, and without regard for his own safety, he lunged at the Reacher, the knife precisely aimed between the eyes. The Reacher screamed out, dropping Andrew in its pain, and crumpled to the floor.

In the confusion, Jeff dove for the Garchen's knife, grabbing it frantically and throwing himself at Angel. He thrust the knife aimlessly into Angel's torso, eliciting a deafening roar from the demon inside, who quickly rose. Angel fell back into the corner of the room, as an exhausted and weakened Jeff continued to plunge the knife randomly into him.

With the Reacher disabled, Andrew came back to himself and quickly jumped up, grabbing and arming himself with his rifle. In a split second he had levelled it at Jeff and pulled the trigger, flooring the man in one shot. 

Andrew ran over to Angel to inspect the damage.

"Shit, shit, shit." he swore loudly, pulling off his own shirt in an effort to stem the flow of blood from Angel's wounds. He could see 3 deep cuts on his torso and a couple of shallower ones on his arms, fortunately none hitting the vampire's heart and dusting him. It was serious though. The knife had done damage, lots of damage.

Xander leapt across to Spike and began cutting and releasing binds with his large knife, easily slicing through both ropes and chains. Spike was barely conscious but it was evident that his non-Garchen's wounds were starting to heal. Xander removed his jacket and wrapped it around the blond vampire as he pulled him into a sitting position.

"Can you manage Angel?" Xander asked Andrew, casting his eyes across to where the pair were crouched on the floor.

"I don't... he's badly hurt... I think so." 

"I'll take Spike then." Xander replied, much calmer than he was feeling.

Andrew pulled himself and Angel to standing and began to head for the door.

"We need to get out of here before those two outside wake."

"Fuck!" In the melee, Xander had forgotten about the men outside. They had been out cold but neither man knew for how long.

"OK then." he said, as much to himself as to Andrew, "You take one vampire, I'll take the other, and Goddess help us, I hope we can find somebody who can fix them both."


	19. Chapter 19

The four men stumbled into the plush interior of Angel Investigations. Well, strictly speaking, two vampires and two men, although Xander himself felt very unmanly right now.   
He was dirty and tired and had weird brown stains on his shirt sleeves which he thought (hoped?) was Reacher blood,  
As Andrew and Xander led the two injured vampires through the business reception and into the attached accommodation's living room to the couches, Spike momentarily stirred again.

"Xan?" 

"Yeah, bleachboy. It's me." Xander grabbed a comforter and placed it over Spike, pushing him back down into a lying position as he did so, "Miss me?"

Spike grabbed a corner of the comforter, rolling into it and closing his eyes again.

"Always." His reply was muffled by the soft fleece, and Xander gave a chuckle. Spike was obviously completely out of it. He needed rest and lots of it. Then, perhaps, they would be able to assess the real lasting damage done by the Garchen's knife.

"How's Angel?" He turned to Andrew who was battling with an uncooperative Angel, trying to get him to lay down and rest a little.

"Bloody stubborn." came the mumbled reply. "Going in there alone. What the hell was he thinking?" Andrew placed his hands one on each of Angel's shoulders and pushed him to lie down.

"Spike..." The vampire was resistant and trying his hardest to get up.

"You need to sleep, Angel. Please." Andrew was almost begging now. "Spike is here, and he's resting. We can check both of your injuries in the morning, but please..." Andrew blinked tears back from his eyes. It'd been a long day. A long week in fact, "...please rest."

Angel let out a long sigh and allowed himself to be lowered back down onto the couch. Xander stood and placed another comforter on the damaged vamp and helped Andrew to his feet.

"Something to eat?" he asked the smaller man, nodding towards the downstairs kitchen area. Truth be told, Xander wasn't sure if he could eat. He needed a shower and a stiff drink really.

"Actually," Andrew began, shucking off Xander's touch but following him to the kitchen, "maybe a strong drink would be a good idea."

Xander smiled and pushed open the kitchen door. Andrew followed and made straight for a cupboard above the sink, pulling out a new bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Damn." Xander pulled 3 cupboards open before finding the tumblers but swiftly dropped two onto the table, sitting opposite Andrew and the bottle. "If this doesn't fix us, nothing will."

Andrew chuckled, pouring a generous three fingers into each glass. 

"To crazy-ass vampires." he toasted, lifting his tumbler to Xander's before swallowing down two large mouthfuls. Xander nodded. 

"To crazy-ass vampires indeed." he agreed, mirroring Andrew's enthusiasm for the good stuff. 

"Do you think they'll be OK?"

Xander's voice was quiet. He had arrived in LA and been thrown, quite literally, into the deep end. He hadn't even had chance to clue Willow in on what was going on before they'd gone running off after Angel, and now they had two injured vampires and no way of knowing how serious or long term the damage was. 

"I don't know." Andrew's reply was as apprehensive and concerned as Xander's question had been. "They're both alive. That's something. All we can hope for now is that we can find someone to fix the curse from the Garchen's knife. Maybe Willow can research?"

Xander nodded. He considered it. In the absence of any strong witches or sorcerers in LA, he supposed that Willow would fly over to help. It wasn't exactly the first time she'd come to Angel's rescue but reversing a curse on two vampires? That was a big ask.

"I'll give her a call tomorrow." Xander drained the remainder of his JD, nodding at Andrew's silent offer of a refill. "She's in Aberdeen at the moment, so I guess I should call at a sociable UK time."

He glanced at the clock. 4am. He should have been dead on his feet, and he suspected that AI's enchanted coffee had something to do with the fact that he wasn't... yet.

"Spike recognised you." Andrew lifted his head only fractionally from his downturned gaze on his own refilled tumbler. "It's something."

He could sense Xander's fear. Fear about the fate of the two vampires but, more specifically, he had sensed the pull between Xander and Spike. It hadn't been evident until after the fight but, as Jeff and the Reacher laid dead on the floor, Xander's singular thought had been for the blond vampire, the fear and panic plain to see in his every move.

Xander shrugged.

"He was delusional anyway." he replied, dropping his own head and fiddling with the glass, watching the amber liquid swirl hypnotically as he circled the tumbler around and around. "Probably didn't even know what he was saying."

Andrew looked straight at the dark-haired man seated across from him at the cold, sterile stainless steel kitchen table. Despite not being able to see Xander directly, he could see something in the man's face.

Something bright. Something hesitant. Hope. He saw hope.

Andrew smiled to himself. Perhaps having Xander here in LA would bring more benefit than he first thought.


	20. Chapter 20

Xander woke the following morning completely confused about who he was, where he was and why on earth he was lying in a strange bed facing a window with open curtains and, ouch! Too bright light!  
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.  
LA.   
Angel Investigations.

Spike.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, jumping out of bed too fast and remembering, with the sudden ill-advised movement, that he and Andrew had consumed rather too much Jack Daniels on empty stomachs and adrenaline last night. He steadied himself against the wall before more cautiously guiding himself along it towards the bathroom.

A quick shower and clean teeth later, and Xander was beginning to feel more like himself again. He pulled on some sweats and a clean t shirt and headed back downstairs to where, he suspected, still lay two injured vampires. As he crept carefully down, sounds from the downstairs kitchen alerted him to Andrew's presence. He bypassed the living area to head straight in and join his friend.

"Coffee?" Andrew asked, pulling a second mug down without even turning around. Xander chuckled. Clearly his stealth tactics were a little rusty and out of practice. Lucky they hadn't found that out last night.

"Thanks." he replied, dropping himself into a chair at the table. "How are our wounded this morning?"

Andrew carried two mugs over to the table and took a seat opposite Xander.

"I checked on them when I came down this morning." 

Andrew deliberately didn't add that he had also checked on them at almost hourly intervals from the time they went to bed, worried as he was about their injuries, and had spent several hours, during the past 6 that Xander had been fast asleep (and snoring - Andrew had heard - no doubt jetlagged), researching how to reverse the Garchen's knife's curse. 

"I think all of the non-Garchen injuries have just about healed. Spike stirred a little when I went in, mumbling something about seeing things because he could have sworn he'd seen Xander Harris." Andrew gave a wry smirk, and the smile that flitted across Xander's face didn't go unnoticed either. "Apart from the knife injuries, he seemed... well."

Xander nodded. If they could fix these Garchen's knife wounds, it seemed as though Spike would be OK. This was excellent news, of course.

"And Angel?"

Andrew chewed on his bottom lip and shook his head. Angel hadn't stirred at all during the night. Andrew hoped that was because Spike had been healing for longer and, as Angel's injuries were fresh, he was just in too deep a healing sleep to be easily disturbed.

"Nothing yet. It's early though, of course. Maybe when Spike wakes up properly, he will be a better judge?"

Andrew really wasn't certain of that. There was no telling what permanent damage the knife had done to either vampire until they came around properly. If they came around.

"There's nothing we can do then?"

Xander was trying hard not to think about the worst case scenarios here. Could an vampire be (im)mortally wounded by the knife, leading to a slow and painful death? Xander supposed it was possible if unhealing wounds bled out. Was Angel wounded that badly? Was Spike? He swallowed down those thoughts and looked up at Andrew as he took a long mouthful of the hot coffee. Damn, it was good stuff.

"I've been reading up on the knife again." Andrew continued, seemingly oblivious to Xander's inner turmoil, "Seeing if I could find any reference to Garchen's injuries being healed. I didn't find much other than it being referred to as some sort of curse... which we already thought... but I did find one thing..."

Andrew stood up and reached down a book that was lying open on the worktop.

"It's an old Watchers' records book, kinda like a journal. It references a vampire in the 1800s who was apparently healed of Garchen's knife wounds... although typically, it doesn't say how... but it does note the possibility that this healing effect may have continued down the vampire's bloodline."

Andrew shrugged and pushed the book across for Xander to read. It was written in old script, and the non-Watcher had trouble getting his eyes to focus on it properly.

"It doesn't say who the vampire was though. Just that it was a young girl who had been tortured by a rival clan. I'm not sure how much use that is."

Andrew looked tired and sounded defeated. He finished the last of his coffee and crossed the kitchen to drop his mug into the sink.

"Go to bed, Andrew." Xander said firmly. It was plainly obvious that the young man had barely slept, probably spending almost the entire night checking up on their wounded and reading through research books. "I'll keep and eye on Angel and Spike... and I promise I'll let you know if there's any change."

Andrew opened his mouth to protest before thinking better of it.

"You're right." he conceded, giving Xander a grateful nod, "Thanks."

Andrew headed back upstairs quietly, and Xander walked over to the living area where the sleeping vampires lay. They both looked peaceful and rested, but Xander couldn't help noticing that Spike looked in much better shape than Angel. Whether it was from the additional healing time, he wasn't sure, but Angel looked paler than usual, almost grey in colour.  
Did they need blood? Xander became suddenly aware that he had no idea when either vampire had last fed. Angel'd had a flask when Xander had first arrived but that was what? 18...24 hours ago? He'd lost track of time. And Spike? When had he last fed?  
He knew that older vampires did not need to feed very frequently, but their injuries could have been exacerbated by their lack of blood.  
He wished he had thought to ask Andrew before he'd gone to bed, but he didn't want to disturb him now. He needed some rest.

Xander looked from one vampire to the other, wondering if it was possible to tell visually if a vampire needed blood. He slowly pulled Angel's blanket down to assess the wounds on his torso. The main flow of blood had stopped for now. Xander knew that wasn't a healing process, so was that normal or was it because he was running out of blood to bleed?   
He wondered briefly whether he should heat some blood and attempt to feed him, but he remembered all too clearly advice that Spike had once given him about not waking a vampire from a deep, healing slumber, not even to feed.

He replaced the blanket and slumped back into the armchair with a long sigh.  
In 5 hours time, he could call Willow.   
He only hoped that they had that much time.


	21. Chapter 21

"Son of a bloody..."

Xander woke with a jump at the loud curse not five feet away from him.

"Xander?"

He couldn't help but smile at seeing Spike looking and sounding almost like his usual self, but, as he woke fully, he remembered that Spike was far from healed.

"How are you feeling, blondie?" he asked, hoping a light-hearted tone would keep the mood light too. A grumpy vampire, a grumpy Spike particularly, was not good.

"Like I've been sliced and diced six ways to Sunday, whelp." Spike replied, with almost jovial return use of the boy's long-term nickname. "What the bloody hell happened to me?" He pushed back the blanket and peered down at his body, noticing the unhealed markings, and winced as fragments of memories returned. "Ah."

"Yeah." Xander nodded, seeing recognition and recollection flit across Spike's features which shifted momentarily before resting on human again. "Ah, indeed."

"You remember much?" he asked tentatively, walking to the kitchen to heat up a mug of blood for the vampire.

"Enough." Spike didn't remember everything. He didn't remember getting home. He remembered being ambushed, waking up restrained, being cut. "Hurt like a bitch. That much I do remember. Still bloody does actually."

"That'll be the Garchen's knife." Xander re-entered the living area and passed the mug to Spike, who took it with a nod and drained it hungrily before holding it out again with another nod. Xander chuckled and fetched another, along with a fresh coffee for himself.

"It's a cursed knife, designed to inflict unhealing injuries on demons." Xander explained, sitting at the other end of the sofa to where Spike was now upright. "We are hoping that Willow might be able to reverse or lift the curse."

"Bloody curses." Spike dropped the second empty mug onto the side table. "Thought they were the poof's thing."

Spike cast his eyes across to his grand-sire, laid on the second sofa, still deep in sleep.

"He OK?" 

Xander swallowed hard before responding, unsure exactly what to say.

"He's in a bad way. His injuries from the Garchen's knife were more erratic, aimed to kill... they've done a lot of damage... he hasn't woken yet."

Spike leaned forwards, his face serious.

"He was injured too?"

Xander nodded.

"How long's he been like this?" Spike tipped his head to the still-sleeping form.

Xander glanced at his watch, willing his brain to make a quick mental calculation.

"7 or 8 hours, maybe?" he replied, silently cursing himself as he realised he must have fallen asleep on the armchair for at least an hour.

Spike pushed himself up in an attempt to stand, only to come back down hard on the sofa again, cursing.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed loudly, cautiously laying against the sofa's back, his arms wrapped around his torso.

"You're not in good shape either!" Xander sidled up alongside Spike, placing an arm around his back. "Let me." He had expected that Spike would want to check Angel over for himself.

Spike let the young man aid him into a standing position and leant on him as he crossed the short distance to his grand-sire. Xander lowered Spike into a kneel and backed away, not wanting to intrude.

"He's... he doesn't look good, does he?" Spike confirmed what Xander had been thinking, as he pulled back the blankets to assess the older vamp's injuries. "When'd he last feed?"

Xander shook his head.

"Not sure. 'Bout 18 hours ago was the last time I saw him. Just after I got here." Realisation that so much had happened in such a short space of time hit Xander hard. Only 18 hours.

"He needs blood. But we really shouldn't wake him..." Spike frowned and let out a long sigh. 

Xander watched a thousand conflicting thoughts rush through Spike's mind. Wake or not? Feed or not?

"How long 'til Red gets here?"

Spike replaced the blanket and lowered himself carefully back on his heels..

Xander groaned as he made yet more mental calculations. Thank god for AI coffee.

"It's 1pm now, so 5am in Scotland. In an hour, maybe?" He figured that 6am wasn't unreasonable, given the current situation they were in. "Should we feed Angel then? I wasn't sure. I mean, when I sat down this morning, I wasn't sure if he needed blood... or whether I should wake him to help feed him... I didn't know.. I mean, you always said not to wake a healing vampire, right?"

Spike raised a hand to silence the jabbering young man.

"I don't think we could wake him even if we wanted to." he finally responded gravely. "He's too deep to feed like that. Maybe direct from a source..." Spike trailed off, aware of Xander's impulse reaction to raise his hand to his neck protectively.

"Not that kind of source, whelp." he reassured the panicked young man. "Something fresh from my arm should do it."

Spike reached across to lift Angel's sleeping form into a more upright position. Xander rushed over to help.

"You're not seriously suggesting that he feeds from YOU, Spike?" Xander's voice raised, filled with disbelief at what the blond vampire was suggesting. He was barely fed himself and certainly in no fit state to be donating any. 

As Xander helped Spike settle Angel in a position where he was more seated than laid down, he grabbed Spike's arm, stilling it with his own firm grip.

"Don't." Xander commanded him, pulling the vampire's arm away from Angel. "Please." 

"He needs something, Xan." Spike's voice was small, almost desperate. "Look at him."

"I know, Spike." Xander began rolling up his own sweatshirt sleeve. "I know."

"Xan?" Spike's tone had a hint of 'what are you thinking?' about it.

"Let me do this, Spike, please. You can keep an eye on us, make sure he doesn't take too much... but you're in no state to give up your own blood right now."

Spike looked into Xander's eyes. The boy was serious. He was actually offering his own blood to Angel, to help Spike. He studied Xander closely, checking for signs of hesitation and doubt but finding only concern and stubborn determination. It was quite incredible.

Spike nodded slowly, taking hold of Xander's arm and carefully lifting it to his mouth, not breaking contact with Xander's deep brown eyes.

"I need to open the vein first, OK?" he explained quietly, as if talking to a timid animal, "Angel can't open it himself in this state, but his demon will get the scent when the fresh blood gets close."

"OK." Xander chewed on his bottom lip anxiously, as he watched Spike's face shift. He looked much less frightening that Xander might have imagined as Spike lowered his face to Xander's wrist and carefully slipped his fangs into the soft flesh. He had expected pain, he was braced for it, but none came. It was almost... sensual.

Spike groaned, his eyes flickering closed as he briefly lost himself in the glorious, long-forgotten sensations of warm blood from the source. Seconds later, gold eyes snapped open and morphed back to blue as Spike released Xander and lifted the boy's arm towards Angel.

Despite being in deep slumber Angel's demon rose and latched onto the arm, much less gently than Spike had, and for a moment, Xander felt panic rise within him.

"Spike?" he asked nervously, only just resisting the urge to pull his arm back to himself.

"It's OK, Xan. He can't control the demon while he is sleeping, but I can. He can't fight either in this condition." Spike's grip tightened reassuringly around his arm, and Xander found himself calmer for it. He watched Spike watch his grand-sire with an anxiety that was very familiar to him. He had felt it himself only hours before as he watched the two vampires sleep.

Spike began stroking hypnotically on Xander's arm, soothing away any lingering fear and panic. A minute later, Spike somehow, and without too much discomfort broke the arm free from Angel's demon's hold, and they both watched the demon recede back to its healing slumber.

As Xander went to withdraw his arm from Spike's grip, Spike kept hold.

"Let me close it first." he said, pulling the wrist towards him and licking gently along the puncture holes, letting his vampire saliva do its job of healing the wounds.

Xander shuddered as the strange sensations washed over him. It was a warm, fuzzy feeling. Calming. Smooth.

He yawned loudly, suddenly realising that he was beat.

"It'll do that to ya." Spike explained matter-of-factly. "Get me back up onto the sofa, will ya? We could both do with a kip now."

Xander forced himself to stand and, carefully taking hold of Spike, moved them both back onto the other sofa, where he sat alongside the blond vampire, letting out another long yawn.

As Spike settled himself back for a short snooze, Xander's head fell onto his shoulder and in very few minutes, both were sound asleep.


	22. Chapter 22

"Xander."

"G'way." Xander groaned, sleep having pulled him deep under. He was so tired, he didn't even bother to see who was trying to rouse him.

"Xander!" The pesky voice came again, this time with more urgency.

Xander sighed and shifted in his seat. A groan next to him jerked his eyes open.

"Keep it down." Spike moaned, shuffling himself further into the back of the sofa, causing Xander's head to drop from his shoulder. Xander shot up quickly at the sudden movement.

"Xander."

It was Andrew. Of course it was Andrew. Who else would it be?

"What time is it?" Xander rubbed his eyes in an effort to wake himself up. How long had he been asleep this time?

"Nearly 3." Andrew handed over a mug of coffee and Xander took it willingly, sitting back down on the sofa again as Andrew took the armchair.

"Shit." Xander took a long drink and glanced over to Spike who had settled himself back to sleep again. "I need to call Willow."

Andrew smiled and held up a hand.

"I've done it." he said, nodding. "I called her over an hour ago after speaking to Giles about it. She could magic here but..." Andrew paused to look up at Xander, who was listening intently, before glancing at each sleeping vampire in turn. Angel looked a little less grey, he noted. "... if she magicked here, it may leave her low on power for anything she needs to do here. She's put a request into the coven to see if they can help her out. She's going to let us know as soon as she hears something. Soon, I hope."

"And Giles?" Xander hadn't spoken to Giles since some weeks before he had flown out to LA. He wondered what the ex-Watcher thought of the whole situation.

"Yes, well, I spoke to Giles at some length about it. He is going to see if he can find out anything more about this healed vampire story in the Watchers' records. He might be able to get access to some more detailed notes from that period. He asked about you."

Xander smiled. The last time he had seen Giles, Xander had been a mess. He was hungover from drinking a cocktail of some seriously bad spirits and was unwashed and barely dressed. Giles had been overly concerned and fatherly, tidying away empties and sorting out the kitchen, but there had been little real conversation. Xander suspected that it was this visit which had prompted Giles to try to find something for Xander to do. Some way he could be of use. It would be nice to speak to Giles sometime and thank him, now that he had a purpose again although he supposed that if Angel didn't survive this...

"He said he will come across in a few days, if we need him." Andrew had approached Angel, pulling the comforter back slightly to check on his wounds before replacing it over the sleeping vampire.

"He's looking better, don't you think?"

Xander followed Andrew's movements, briefly glancing down to stroke at his wrist, which showed only the faintest trace of the puncture marks which had been created only hours previously, and looking back to Andrew who he found staring at him.

"What?" Xander's feigned ignorance, in reality, only made him seem more guilty.

"Yes. What?" Andrew repeated, throwing the question back to Xander again. 

"Spike was going to feed Angel from himself." Xander felt a sudden urge to defend himself. "He couldn't have done that. He had barely fed himself. I gave him two mugs, but that's not enough. Not if he was going to..."

"So Angel fed from you?" Andrew was torn between his very obvious concern for Angel and a growing concern for Xander himself. "Was that wise?"

"It was the only alternative." Xander shrugged. "Spike opened a vein and he monitored the whole thing."

Andrew raised an eyebrow at Spike's mention. He knew that having a vein opened could be a very different experience when not done out of hunger or during attack. That was why there was such a thriving number of people willing to be donors to vampires who preferred not to kill. Fools they were, to place themselves in such danger, but Andrew had heard that it could be a very sensual thing between vampire and human. He didn't mention it, of course. Not wishing to make Xander feel even more uncomfortable than he clearly already was.

"He only drank for a minute or two. Angel, I mean." Xander continued, feeling slightly more relaxed that Andrew hadn't completely flipped out, "and Spike helped the wounds to heal after." He held out his wrist towards Andrew.

Andrew nodded. He knew what Xander meant, and the marks were barely visible already, even after such a short time.

"Well, he looks better for it." he turned back to Angel again, patting the comforter lightly and returning to the armchair. Spike groaned and turned again, facing Xander on the sofa as he opened his eyes a little to see Xander staring back at him.

"Hey there, sleepyhead." Xander smiled at the blond vampire, reaching an arm out to help lever Spike into a more comfortable position.

"I'll heat you some blood." Andrew stood and wandered into the kitchen, leaving Spike and Xander alone to collect themselves. 

"Any change?" Spike looked over at the sleeping Angel's form. His colour looked slightly improved, but there was still an air of disquiet about the elder vampire.  
Andrew re-entered, passing Spike a mug and Xander a fresh coffee and placing down a tray of croissants on the table. Xander took one with a glint in his eye, and it dawned on him that he was famished.

"Angel's colour is better, thanks to what you..." Andrew looked accusingly at Spike, "... what you allowed Xander to do."

Spike opened his mouth to protest, but Andrew cut him off quickly.

"I understand why you did it. And he does look better. But the wounds don't look good at all. I'm worried about them."

The outer door to the living room slammed closed suddenly, and a bright light appeared and vanished in an instant revealing Willow, flicking her shimmering hair as it morphed from white back to red.

"Oops, sorry." she said, stepping out of a circle of light that had appeared on the floor around her. "Perhaps I can help with that."


	23. Chapter 23

"Willow!" Xander jumped up and ran across the room, sweeping his friend up in his arms and holding her close. "God, Willow. It's so good to see you."

Willow chuckled and returned the hug willingly. She hadn't seen Xander in too many months, but Giles had been keeping her updated about how he was doing after his own infrequent visits. She hadn't known what to expect when she arrived in LA, but the Xander who held her now was a Xander that nobody had seen in a long time. She smiled fondly at him as she broke away from his strong arms.

"Good to see you too, Xan." she said, her smile warm and genuine. "And Andrew... Spike..." She nodded acknowledgement at the two men briefly before turning to where Angel lay, her face quickly transforming into a frown.

"He's bad, isn't he? I can feel it. The bad energy is almost stifling."

Andrew sighed. "I don't understand why he hasn't woken up yet. He should have... he should be healing by now... from the non-Garchen's injuries, I mean. Enough to wake up anyway. Coffee?"

Willow shook her head, and Andrew turned to fetch coffee for himself and Xander.

"There's something definitely not right." she said, approaching the sleeping vampire and kneeling alongside him. Spike reached for Xander who quickly crossed the room to help him up and over to Willow. "And how are you?" she asked the blond vampire, not taking his eyes off her careful examination of Angel.

"I'll live." Spike watched Willow's hands as they carefully swept across Angel's body, assessing the depth and gravity of his wounds.

"I'll need to check you over too. So I can gauge how much power this spell is going to need."

Spike hummed. "Sure thing, Red. Whatever you need." He looked over Angel himself, for a moment blocking out their surroundings and company. His colour was starting to grey again. He really didn't look good. He'd seen vamps get like this. When they were starved; short of blood; dying; getting slowly greyer until they just dusted.

"I don't think we have much time." 

He hadn't really meant to say it out loud, but there it was: his thoughts and fears out for everyone to hear.

"What?" 

Andrew re-entered, catching Spike's words as he did and running across to the huddle which had now gathered around Angel.

"What do you mean by that? 'Not much time'? Until what?" Andrew's voice was frantic; worried. He hadn't been aware that there were any issues beyond the injuries which, now that Willow was here, could be fixed.  
Spike turned to face the worried young man and shrugged. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut.

"Sorry." Spike's apology didn't go any way to reassure Andrew or anybody else. Spike apologising was worrying in itself. Andrew passed Xander his coffee and took a drink of his own. He needed its effects right now.

"Can you fix him?" Xander sat back down on the sofa as the huddle dispersed and Willow took a seat across from him and Spike. Andrew stayed next to Angel, periodically looking from him to the others.

Willow closed her eyes and took a long breath, grounding herself from the bad energies that were evident in the room. Xander looked at Spike, who replied with a wordless shrug.

"I think so." Willow finally spoke, after some considerable effort to regain her senses. The room was bloody oppressive. "It's going to take all my energy though... to break through the curse. Hopefully, once I've done that, the injuries will then heal themselves like you guys usually do."

"Hopefully?" Andrew had turned around and was now listening intently to Willow. She didn't sound convinced even by her own words. "Hopefully?"

Willow gave a rueful smile and nodded.

"I am fairly confident I can fix the curse." she explained, feeling the need to justify her lack of conviction, "What happens after that though... I can't control that. You vampires heal yourselves though, right?" She turned to Spike who just shrugged again.

"S'pose, yeah. I mean, normal injuries heal so, with no curse..." he trailed off, feeling Willow's lack of confidence given Angel's current condition.

Willow nodded and stood up, crossing the room to where she had laid down her bag when she entered.

"OK then. I'll need you guys to completely clear the room of technology. I guess Angel doesn't have much here anyway, but phones, computers, laptops, everything like that, it all needs to be out of this room. 20 metre exclusion zone to be safe. I need ten minutes to prepare, and then I can start. Xander, Andrew, I'm afraid you guys will need to stay out of the room. I can't risk the curse jumping." 

She stopped briefly, remembering the curse she'd witnessed being lifted from a peaceful Dorca demon in Budapest and how, once removed from the Dorca, it had jumped to the next available non-witch in the room, and they'd had to start over. She had learned then that an audience for a curse-lifting was never advisable.

"So we'll wait in the kitchen then." Xander responded, trying to lighten the mood from the heavy, tense apprehension that had begun to settle in the room. He jumped up and led the way, making sure that Andrew was following before he stopped and turned around. Spike looked... scared? Maybe not scared, but he looked definitely anxious; worried. Whether worry for himself or for Angel, Xander wasn't sure, but he took several paces back towards the sofa and leaned over the back to where the blond vampire sat.

"He'll be OK, Spikey, you'll see. Willow's bad-ass at this."

Spike turned around to meet the boy's dark eye, seeing only sincerity and belief in his face. Xander knew Willow better than most. Maybe the boy was right. Maybe it would turn out OK.  
Xander gave a quick smile and stood back up, grabbing his cellphone and the only laptop in the room as he headed back to the kitchen. Angel wasn't one for technology, and the living area was pretty much a tech-free zone anyway. Andrew followed into the kitchen and flopped down into one of the chairs.

He was picking mindlessly at his nails when Xander joined him at the table. Andrew looked up at his old friend who he had dragged halfway around the world and pulled in to this messy world of craziness. He felt sorry, for a moment, that he'd brought Xander into this life. 

"They'll be OK, Andrew." Xander said, trying to convince himself as much as his friend. Since his arrival, he had been plunged into chaos and madness, but it had felt great to be a part of something again; to be worth something; to be useful. He thought about the two injured vampires in the living room and the powerful witch brought in to help them. 

He needed Spike to be OK.   
He didn't know why, but he really, really did.


	24. Chapter 24

Time seemed to stand still for long minutes, as Willow prepared the room and the two men waited, patiently and silently sipping rapidly cooling coffees, and the next thing that Xander and Andrew were aware of was a strange shimmer which swept through the kitchen, like some sort of split second disco ball lighting sweeping from one end of the room to the other, accompanied by a strange feeling in the pits of their stomachs. As quickly as it was there, it was gone again and they were left dazed, more than a little disoriented and slightly stunned.  
A minute later, the kitchen door opened, and a white-haired Willow appeared.

"I will never get used to that feeling." she said, shaking her hair and her limbs out as she walked into the room and poured herself a fresh coffee from the pot. "I need this." 

The colour swept back into her hair, like a wave, and she turned back around to the kitchen table to find both men staring, wide-eyed with confusion.

"Oh, right. Yes." she chuckled, remembering why she was here and they were there and what they probably experienced. She really had been affected by the spell.

"It's done, obviously. You might have felt the aftershock. I forgot to warn you that it sometimes travels a bit." She looked sheepish as she realised that both men had obviously been quite shaken by the effects and weren't really with it yet. "Yeah, I'm sorry." she added. Time had been of the essence, and she'd not really had chance to run through the entire spell beforehand

Neither man spoke for a couple of minutes, and Willow waited for them to shake free of the effect.

"Willow?" Andrew spoke first, shaking his head to clear it. Willow passed him a glass of water and placed another on the table for Xander, who recovered a moment later.

"Well?"

Willow sat down at the table, cradling her coffee.

"They're OK." she began, choosing her words carefully for her two friends, their concern evident in every frown line. "The spell went OK. Bit draining, powerful spell, but it seemed to work. The curse lifted. You probably felt the aftershock." She averted her eyes, dropping them to her coffee mug as they both groaned with the realisation that they hadn't been prepared for the extended effects of the spell. "We won't know how they are though until they've healed."

Andrew made to stand but was halted by Willow placing her hand on his arm.

"They're both sleeping now. The spell was adapted to put them both to sleep... well, to put Spike to sleep anyhow... so they can heal. There's still a lot of healing to be done. Especially for Angel." She looked from Andrew to Xander, and Xander saw something in her eyes. Something she wasn't saying.

"Will?" He looked at her inquisitively; knowingly. He'd known her long enough to know when she was hiding or deliberately not telling something.

"Umm, yeah." She emptied her coffee mug - a stalling tactic - but placed it down quickly, knowing this was something she would have to talk about sooner or later.

"There was something." she continued, trying to keep her head down but feeling compelled to look both Xander and Andrew in the eyes. It was unfair to hide something this important from them at this point. They had already done so much; risked so much to get the vampires home.

"There was something strange that emanated from Angel when the spell reached him. I don't know what it was. It was like... like there was something else in there. Something..." she paused, frustrated at herself for not being able to put the right words to the feeling she had felt, "... something else inside him. It didn't interfere with the removal of the curse... not exactly..."

"Not exactly?" Andrew was frowning. He looked at Willow and then at the kitchen door. He was desperate to get out there to check on his boss; his friend. Yes, he considered Angel to be his friend, even though Angel often seemed to wish otherwise.

"The curse was lifted. I watched it dissipate. Don't worry." Willow tried to sound reassuring, but neither were fooled much into thinking everything was OK.

"Then what?" Xander was losing patience now. If there was a problem... if that problem was with the spell... if it affected both vampires...

"I'm not 100% sure, Xan." Willow began nervously fiddling with her fingers on the table. "I think maybe it was something to do with the spell I used to fix Angel's soul. I think it did something, but I'm not sure what."

Andrew stood quickly, avoiding Willow's grasp as he crossed to the door. Xander watched Andrew leave the kitchen before he turned back to Willow. She looked pale and drained.

"Is the soul safe?" he asked, frowning. "I mean, he's not going to go all fangs and Angelus on us, is he? Are WE safe?"

Willow looked up, her face forcing a smile.

"The soul is definitely safe." she nodded, more believably than she had previously sounded, "but I'm not sure how much Angel will recover." She lowered her voice slightly, so as not to be overheard from outside the room. 

"Now that Andrew isn't here, I can tell you. I think that the soul-fixing spell just kinda interfered a bit with the mojo of the Garchen's curse. The curse is lifted, but the interference might have some lasting effects on Angel. I just won't know what until he wakes up." 

Willow slumped into the chair, exhausted from the whole experience. Xander placed a reassuring hand on her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Whatever it is, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Will." he said, smiling at her fondly. "We had to do this or Angel might've died, and much as I've hated the guy in the past, he's done good, ya know? He's had a tough time, and he came through for Spike. We owed him to at least try. Whatever happens, it's not your fault. We've been through worse, I'm sure."

Xander had barely finished speaking when the kitchen door swung open and Andrew came flying in.

"It's Angel." he shouted, his voice panicked and edgy, "I think he's having some sort of seizure."


	25. Chapter 25

Xander and Willow jumped up, following a frantic Andrew out of the kitchen and back into the living room.

Andrew ran straight back to Angel, rolling the vampire back onto his side instinctively, although whether it would help or not, he really didn't know.

"What's happening to him?" he almost-shouted to Willow as she knelt alongside the pair and placed her hand over Angel's torso.

"Give her a minute, Andrew." Xander's voice of reason cut in, his arms gently removing Andrew from crowding the still jerky vampire and the witch. "Let her check him over first."

Andrew moved back reluctantly, hovering a couple of steps behind Willow as her hair briefly flickered white again before settling back to her natural red.

She let out a deep breath, turning back to her anxiously waiting friends.

"He's not healing." she said quietly, pulling Andrew back from where he was approaching Angel again and motioning him to sit down. "It's not the curse. That's lifted. There was something about the soul-fixing that has interfered with the whole thing, I think."

She let out another long, shaky breath and sat down on the arm of the sofa next to Xander, facing Andrew.

"The soul-fixing spell kind of bound the "curse" of Angel's human soul to his body. It ensured it could never be lifted again... in those "moments of true happiness"... or whatever." Xander placed a hand on Willow's leg. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. Willow gave him a quick smile before continuing.

"Unfortunately, the binding of the soul... well, the binding of the curse to his body was non-specific. I mean, nobody expected Angel to get cursed again, obviously. Maybe it's something we should have thought of..." she trailed off, wondering if it was even something they had given proper consideration to when they fixed his soul all those years previously.

"Trust Deadboy to get more than one curse in his unlife." Xander quipped, inappropriately, but in his own unique way, trying to lighten the mood. Willow shrugged, her eyes flitting from Xander back to Andrew.

"Anyway, that curse-binding made it more difficult to remove the Garchen's curse. The curse itself is removed," she reassured, "but the effects of it are not. These wounds are still not healing, and I'm not sure what else I can do."

If Andrew was listening, it wasn't obvious. He just sat, staring at Angel who, during Willow's examination, had stilled and seemed to be sleeping again. He was so deathly pale and deadly still, and Andrew realised that the sight of a sleeping vampire not breathing - it wasn't something he had witnessed often - was rather unnerving.

"I induced the deep sleep again." she explained, "He is OK for the moment, but perhaps when Spike wakes up, he can advise the best way we can get some blood into him."

Andrew's eyes darted across to Xander who had dropped his head and was deliberately not looking at either Willow or Andrew.

"What?" The sudden quiet tension in the room did not go unnoticed by the observant redhead.

"Spike's bright idea last time was to let Angel feed from Xander." Andrew blurted out, incriminating his friend sitting between the sleeping blond vampire and Willow.

Willow was about to say something when Xander interrupted to put the record straight.

"Actually," he began, pulling himself upright in the chair as he prepared to defend himself and their actions, "his first thought was to let Angel feed from HIM. Spike had barely fed himself, Andrew. You know that. If he'd let Angel feed from him, maybe we'd be looking at two almost-dead vampires right now. I simply gave him a better alternative."

Andrew and Willow both smarted at Xander's choice of words. Nobody had said it before now, but it was no secret that Angel was close to death, especially without replacement fresh blood to keep him going. If Spike had fed Angel from himself, with the little blood he had inside him, he could well have been suffering alongside Angel right now. Or worse. Xander had seen the worry on Spike's face, and he had little doubt that Spike would have fed Angel even at his own cost.

"Well, maybe it's best that doesn't happen again?" Willow adopted her best motherly tone as she processed the depth of just what her best friend had done to help Angel. It was no small thing. She hoped it wouldn't end up being in vain.

"Andrew, you must have local fresh blood sources here in LA still?" She hoped maybe he had somebody who could provide them with something only hours old, rather than something that had been stored for several days or more. Stored blood was fine usually, but right now Angel needed fresh although it went without saying that they weren't about to go find somebody off the street to feed to him. Angel wouldn't have thanked them for it, even if they did.

Andrew thought about it and nodded.

"Actually, yes. Brutus at the Old Gatehouse usually gets a percentage of the day's donations to the blood bank. Every day. So, if we could get some of today's... maybe that'd help?" He stood up and headed into the kitchen to retrieve the laptop and his cellphone. "I'll give him a call and find out. I need to feel useful."

"Great." Xander stood up before realising he didn't really know what he had planned to stand up for. He hesitated, feeling lost for a moment. "So, what do we do now then? Just... wait?" 

He wasn't up for that plan. Waiting had never been Xander's strong point. He'd spent too many hours and days waiting as a child. Waiting for his father to get home. Not with anticipation, but with a gut-wrenching feeling of terror and dread. No, waiting was not Xander's thing. Waiting was bad.

Willow opened her mouth to answer just as Andrew re-entered on the phone. 

"Right... OK... Still alive?.. Where?... Jesus." he filled in, listening intently to whoever it was he was talking to and waving his arms to Willow and Xander, beckoning their attention. "I'll put you on speakerphone." he said, placing the phone on the coffee table and pressing the button.

"Willow and Xander are here." he added helpfully, after a moment of silence. "Angel and Spike are.. still sleeping." He didn't elaborate further.

"Will, Xander. I trust you are both well."

Giles' voice spoke with a weary tiredness that both recognised as having come from too much research and not enough sleep.

"G-man." Xander acknowledged, using the old nickname that, in their schooldays, Giles hated but, in later years, had come to think more fondly of as a term of endearment.

Willow smiled as Giles continued.

"Your vampire. The one who was healed. It's been an interesting story. There are some quite detailed records in the Watcher's personal journals about this vampire herself... She has quite a colourful history..." 

"Giles?" Andrew's voice was impatient. He needed to hurry the Englishman along, skipping the fascinating history and getting to the point.

"Sorry." Giles' voice was part-apologetic and part-amused, but he understood that time was of the essence.

"Well, it turns out that your vampire herself is, we think, still alive. Melandra was, for a time, in LA, but most recent reports indicate that she moved to Bordensville. According to the records, which have been tracking her movements as well as holding quite a detailed account of her life, she is supposed to hold some sort of non-magic antidote to the Garchen's curse which was inflicted on her by..." Giles paused, selecting carefully what to say, ".. by a rival vampire clan. Anyway, it is said that any blood drained from her body can reverse the effects of the curse in the same way as she was healed. Maybe, if your spell doesn't work..."

"The spell worked." Willow was quick to defend herself and her magic, although in reality, she knew Giles had little doubt about her success. "But there are... complications."

"It might work though." She looked at Andrew, his face carrying a small hint of dared hope, "This healed vampire's blood. It might work."

"There's something else." Giles sounded reluctant, as if he had bad news to follow their faint ray of hope. "The vampires who tortured this girl, this vampire. The rival clan who used the Garchen's knife on her. The records say that they belonged to the House of Aurelius. They describe an imposing dark-haired man, a powerful vampire, most hated throughout Europe, and a slight, raven-haired girl, thought to be either simple-minded or insane."

Giles stopped, noting the total silence at the other end of the line and wondering who would break it.

"Angelus and Drusilla?" Xander, true to form, stepped up to the challenge.

"It seems likely." Giles confirmed. "I'm not sure how that will affect your chances of finding her. Or if it will. I guess as long as she doesn't hear about Angel's predicament. You'll need to be very careful that word doesn't get out."

"So we can't take Angel along for the ride then." Xander's mind was putting two and two together. Angel couldn't go. There was no way they could keep his condition quiet that way. He would have to stay here, and Andrew would have to stay with him. As Willow had other business back in Scotland, that just left Xander.

"I guess I'll have to go alone then." He finally said, realising there were no alternative options. The sofa next to him shifted slightly, and Xander jumped as a pale, bony hand put pressure on his leg, and Spike pulling himself into a sitting position.

"Like hell you will, whelp." he said hoarsely, stretching out his arms and legs and relishing the feeling of not feeling like he'd been sliced gourmet style.

"I'll come too."


	26. Chapter 26

"He's not awake?"

Spike's voice showed clear and obvious concern. He had fully expected to be the last to wake and thought he'd come around to find his grand-sire hovering over him, waiting to tell him off for being such an idiot and putting himself in danger.

"Is that Spike?" Giles jolted the group back to the fact that he was still at the other end of the line.

"Rupert." Spike acknowledged before turning to Willow. "Red." 

He nodded at the smiling redhead. He felt far better than he expected he would.

"I have you to thank for this?" Spike motioned to his body, opening the shirt that Andrew and Xander had helped him into and brushing his hands carefully across his stomach. There were faint purple lines where the cuts had been made, but they were healing. Healed on the surface and, as Spike could tell from his stretch, healing quite well underneath too. It felt sensitive to the touch but infinitely better than it had been.

Willow shrugged.

"I had help." she replied humbly. "The coven helped me to find the correct spell, and Giles helped to get me here. It needed a lot of power, and I'm wiped out now."

"You want to come back?" Giles enquired quickly. The spell was big and it would have affected Willow greatly. She would need time to recuperate before she could do any magic again. "I can bring you back, if you like?"

Willow looked around the room. Spike and Xander were communicating silently with each other: Xander checking Spike over, making sure his injuries were healing OK, and Spike tolerating his examination with an amused smile. Andrew had moved back to the sleeping Angel's side, the frown on his face making it all too plain just how worried he was.

"I think I should go." she announced, as much to the group in the room as to Giles. "There's nothing more I can do here."

"I'll make preparations. Five minutes should suffice. Same location as you arrived. Then we can both get some sleep."

Giles rang off and Willow let out a long breath.

"We can't thank you enough for this, Will." Xander got up and walked over to Willow, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Look after him, Xan." she said softly, smiling and nodding her head towards the blond vampire who was watching Angel intently. "And don't let him do anything heroic. He's still healing. He'll be fragile for a while."

Xander let out a snort of laughter.

"Fragile?" he asked, incredulously, "Hey Spikey, did ya hear that? Will says you'll be fragile for a while so no heroics, OK?"

Willow rolled her eyes at the two men who were clearly amused at her suggestion. 

"Well, hell." Spike replied, stifling a chuckle himself, "I guess I'll just have to let ya get killed instead then, huh, whelp?"

Despite his jovial comment, Spike's face quickly reverted back to concern, and he stood carefully, walking across to Angel and kneeling alongside Andrew. Andrew glanced at Spike and then back to Xander, before standing and giving the vampires some space.

"Right." Willow deliberately distracted them from the almost intimate moment between vampire and grand-sire, "I'll be off then."

"Yeah." Andrew forced himself to stay focussed on the humans in the room, allowing Spike some time. He walked across to Willow and gave her a half-hearted hug.

"Thanks, Willow." he added, "I know you did what you could, and we all appreciate it. I'll stay and watch over Angel, making sure his blood levels stay up while Spike and Andrew head off to Bordensville to find this vampire Melandra. Brutus will get the stuff delivered when he knows it's for Angel. We'll be OK."

Andrew sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than anybody else, but nobody in the room knew for sure how things would turn out.

Willow nodded and leant in to Xander, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek before turning and picking up her bag.

"Look after yourself, Xan. And don't do anything stupid." The last comment came as the atmosphere in the room became thick with a heavy quiet feeling. 

"See you." she said, as a moment later, the room flashed brightly and, when the eyes in the room had recovered enough to be able to focus, she was gone.

Xander glanced over to Spike, wondering whether he and Andrew should leave the vampires in peace. After a minute's contemplation, and noticing that Andrew was also standing awkwardly, obviously unsure what to do, he gave a nod.

"I'll go repack my things then. Gonna make us some fresh coffee, Andrew, and box us up some blood in a cooler for Spike?"

It wasn't subtle. Xander had never really been known for subtle, but it gave Andrew something to do and gave the vampires some space. If Spike really was coming on this road trip with Xander; if it really didn't go to plan; if they couldn't find Melandra; if Andrew couldn't find enough blood to keep Angel alive...

There was no hiding the fact that, if all didn't go well and Angel didn't make it, this could be the last time Spike saw him.  
There had been many times, during their long coexistence, that Spike might have relished that idea. This was certainly not one of those times. It said a lot, Xander thought, about how recent times had changed everyone, that it was plain to see in Spike's face that he was in no way ready to let Angel go.

The kitchen door swung closed behind Andrew, and Xander could hear the mutterings of a young man trying to hide his emotions and distract himself as he prepared coffee and blood for his friends' trip.

And as Xander himself climbed the stairs back up to his bedroom: the one he had barely used himself since arriving such a short time ago in LA, he could have sworn he heard the faint sounds of a desperate British voice, choked with emotion, pleading and begging his grand-sire to pull through.


	27. Chapter 27

Spike carefully rose from his position at Angel's side, groaning a little at the twang of pain he felt from the newly healing wounds.  
Angel was deep in his vampire healing sleep, although Spike sensed he would wake soon. The wounds had settled a little, but they were still bleeding out slowly, losing valuable life essence and causing Spike to worry. Andrew would need to make sure he kept Angel sufficiently fed while he and Xander were gone, and it wouldn't be easy.   
Spike stood looking about the room and contemplated what he would need for the trip. He could hear Andrew in the kitchen, and he figured Xander had gone upstairs to pack a bag.

Xander.  
The boy had changed. He was different; older; more... mature. A far cry from the foolhardy "act first, think later" whelp Spike had known in Sunnydale.  
He'd never really given too much thought to what he felt about Xander, but he had a feeling that the boy hadn't know about Spike's return. Nobody had said as much, but Spike had either seen or heard from all the rest of the Scoobies during the time since his reappearance at Wolfram and Hart. Nothing had been said about Xander though other than that he was in Africa. As far as Spike had known, he was still there, but he hadn't given it much consideration really.  
The boy had just been like all the others, Spike thought. 

Well, the boy had. This man, however, was definitely no naive teenage boy. He was strong, worldly and brave. He had thought nothing of offering himself to help Angel. Spike recalled the moment fondly. How Xander had stepped up to the plate and done what was needed to save Angel; to save Spike.

An unusual feeling rushed through him, and he winced as his healing injuries made themselves felt in stark contrast to the warmth of... whatever it was.

"Need anything?"

Only his preternatural instincts prevented Spike from jumping as Andrew re-entered the room, a cooler in one hand and flask of coffee in the other.

"Jesus, Andrew. Give an undead guy a heart attack, won't ya?"

Andrew chuckled and placed the things down near the table.

"There's enough blood there to last four days." He frowned, as if suddenly remembering something, "Will that be enough? I mean, you're healing still... and what if you get injured..."

"It'll be fine." Spike interrupted, cutting off Andrew's rambling before he really got started. "If I need more, I'll get it."

Andrew raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly what Spike meant by that.

"Not like that." Spike clarified with an eye roll. "I mean, we'll find some legit source. We have a file, right? There'll be some places along the way?"

"I'll fetch it." Andrew nodded, letting out a long breath before heading towards his office.

Spike wandered up the stairs steadily, an arm across his front as if holding it eased the discomfort.

"Feeling OK?" Xander appeared from a bedroom doorway, holdall in hand. He looked tired and worried. Spike supposed, even without knowing yet when exactly Xander had arrived, that he'd probably not had much rest since, having been thrown straight into the deep end.

" 'm fine, Xan. Thanks." Spike dropped his arm and straightened up in an effort to appear less injured and more... Spike. The resulting grimace wasn't missed by the dark haired boy.

"Shit, Spike." Xander let the holdall drop to the floor, quickly closing the gap between himself and the vampire and taking Spike's arm to help straighten him back up again. "You're still healing. Don't be an idiot and overdo it, yeah? Need a hand with some packing?"

"Whatever." Spike rolled his eyes and shrugged off the grip. Since when did Xander Harris become 'Mother'? 

"Room's this way." He began walking past Xander's doorway and stopped at the adjacent door, pushing it open carefully as Xander followed him inside.

"Sorry 'bout the mess." Spike mumbled apologetically. "I'm not one for housekeeping."

Xander let out a short laugh.

"Hey, you stayed in my basement, right? I'm not all about the clean and tidy myself."

Xander cast his mind back to the squalor of the place he left behind in Scotland. Even Spike's room wasn't a patch on that Xander Harris' life. He reached down, picking up a few stray items of clothing and throwing them into the laundry hamper.

"What do you need?" Xander stopped, pulling straight the comforter on the bed and sitting on it, waiting for Spike to respond.

"A bloody miracle." Spike muttered, dropping himself next to Xander with a long sigh.

Xander nodded knowingly

"He'll be OK, you know." he said, not looking directly at Spike, choosing instead to focus on the mirror opposite in which, bizarrely, he could see both himself and Spike. He guessed it was one of Willow's doings. Spike's head was dropped, and he was fiddling absently with the corner of the still unbuttoned shirt he was wearing.

"Couple of tees, couple of shirts, I suppose." Spike answered, ignoring the real elephant in the room and just wanting to get on with it. "Need to get dressed myself too. 'm a mess."

Xander did look sideways at Spike then, giving him his best reassuring smile and a nod.

"Let me get out some stuff, and you can change while I pack." He stood and walked over to the dresser before turning back to Spike, who hadn't moved from the bed. 

"Can you..." Xander paused, watching Spike's eyebrow raise minutely, "... can you manage by yourself? You know... to get dressed?"

It seemed like a ridiculous question to ask the vampire, and he expected some condescending derision or mocking in response.

"Yeh. Guess so." Spike's reply was quiet but firm. No way he was going to let the boy help him dress. Bad enough he was mothering him anyway.   
Despite that, he couldn't help feeling more than just a little content that he'd thought to ask. That he cared.

Xander handed him some jeans, a shirt and a clean tee from the drawers, frowning as he pulled open several more drawers and pushed them closed again.

"Err, Spike?" he asked, pulling out another and turning back to the smirking vampire. Spike knew what was coming.

"I don't wear 'em." he shrugged, carefully standing up and walking over to the dresser. He pulled out some socks and pushed the drawer closed again, still smiling as he wandered through to the bathroom and closed the door, briefly pausing to add, "They get in the way."

Xander didn't dare ask of what.


	28. Chapter 28

"There's coffee in the flask and blood in the cooler. Brutus is arranging for fresh blood to be delivered here twice a day until further notice, and yes, I can manage just fine feeding Angel." 

Andrew directed his last comment to Spike, who he could see was having second thoughts about leaving Angel in Andrew's hands. Andrew was more than capable, of course, but this was Angel; Spike's grand-sire; for all intents and purposes, his sire; family. Spike couldn't help feeling that he should be the one looking after him... and where the hell did THAT sentiment come from? He shook himself free of it, turning to Xander who was looking at him half-amused.

"Ready?" Xander asked, picking up the holdall into which he had packed all of their stuff and another which held an assortment of weapons. Andrew grabbed the cooler and pushed open the front door, loading up the back of the car which was parked on the kerbside.The blacked-out windows meant that they could travel through the daytime too, which would shorten their journey considerably.

"As I'll ever be." Spike followed Andrew outside and Xander joined him, slamming the trunk closed on their holdalls. Spike started slightly as Xander grabbed an arm, aiding him into the passenger side. 

"Thanks." he said gratefully. It was nice. Xander seemed to have a way of helping him out without making him feel like an invalid. There was nothing forced or belittling about it. It was just genuine concern and help.

"I presume you're fine with me driving?" Xander slid into the driver's seat and turned the key, giving a quick nod to Andrew before the young man disappeared back inside. "You could do with some more rest time... to heal better. And don't worry, I can still drive with this." Xander indicated to the eye patch. He was wary of starting to sound like a nagging nursemaid, but he needed Spike to get better; stronger; back to his cocky old self.

"Sure. 's fine." Spike let himself relax into the seat, enjoying the support that it gave him. He did need to rest some more. Perhaps in a couple of hours, he'd be fully healed and fighting fit, and then they could go kick some vampire ass. He wasn't tired though. He already felt like he'd had more than enough sleep for a week, and the quickly fading evening light had his vampire senses feeling awake and alert.

"So," he asked as Xander pulled onto the freeway and they began their journey, "How've you been? Last I heard, you were in Africa?"

Xander's usually animated demeanour was notably absent, and Spike noticed how his mouth pressed into a firm line before he spoke.

"Yeah." he eventually replied, his voice quiet and tinged with something that Spike couldn't quite put his finger on. "I was rounding up slayers. You know, the ones who had been called when Willow did that thing... and you..." Xander's voice trailed off, clearly in an effort avoid whatever emotions the memories were stirring up. There was silence in the car for several long minutes, and Spike took to staring out of the darkened windows, into the twilight, until Xander broke it again.

"Nobody told me."

Spike didn't immediately turn back around, letting that sink in for a moment. He'd figured as much, but there was something reassuring about having it confirmed. When he did turn to face Xander, the young man averted his eyes, fixing them firmly on the road ahead.

"Doesn't matter." Spike answered, watching Xander's deliberate avoidance. "Not like you'd have been bothered anyway, right?"

Xander sighed. That's what everybody thought then. Xander doesn't care. Stupid, self-absorbed, drop-out Xander.   
He wrestled with the emotions in his head before he composed himself enough to answer.

"I care." Xander tried hard to keep his frustration out of his voice. "Why does everybody think I don't care?"   
He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice strained and anger beginning to rise. 

"I spent years in Africa, and when I came back: nothing. I got nothing. A pokey little flat, a measly allowance that barely covered food and usually got spent on booze. I was useless, Spike. They had nothing for me to do. Nothing. I was lost and alone, left to reflect on my pitiful life with only the company of a Scotch bottle. And then, people stopped coming round, like I'd just disappeared or something. Dropped off the face of the earth. Pathetic Alexander Harris. Nobody else cared, so they assumed I didn't either..."

"I had no idea." Spike was still watching Xander as the young man's reply became a torrent of angry words and barely-hidden emotions. He'd had no idea that Xander had been abandoned by the gang. Spike knew how that felt, having been left out in the cold himself several times during his existence. The boy'd had a tough enough life. Spike knew, from time spent in Xander's company in the past, that he'd had a rough deal from his parents, and things didn't get much better as he got older. He was always the outsider; always the dispensable one; the one nobody gave a second thought to.

"Not your problem, Spike." Xander shrugged, pulling his shoulders straight and re-focussing himself on the road. He reined in the emotions again, a long-practised skill that he had honed in his youth.

"It could be."

Xander sideways glanced across to the vampire who had gone back to looking out of the window.

"It's 'bout time you had somebody on your side, Xan." Spike continued, watching the silhouette of trees and buildings grow darker against the late evening sky. "You've had a ton of shit to deal with in your life, and I never once heard you mention it. Never complained about it. Ya just get on with life. Like all that shit, past and present, never happened."

"You can always talk to me, you know." Spike resisted the urge to look at Xander, despite being able to sense that he was periodically being watched. "I mean, I dunno. We've never exactly been mates, I know, but you gotta talk to someone, right? Get it all out. Purge everything and move on; start over. Isn't that what coming to LA was all about? Starting over?" Xander's lack of response worried Spike. Maybe he'd crossed a line suggesting such a thing. Maybe Xander just wanted to be left alone.

Spike chanced a look across to the young man, noticing that his features had softened after his earlier rant. Xander briefly turned to Spike, flashing him a genuine smile and a brief nod.

"Thanks, Spike."


	29. Chapter 29

Three hours had passed uneventfully.  
Well, uneventfully apart from when Spike went to light up and Xander had, in no uncertain terms, told him that, if he smoked in the car, he'd find himself dumped out at the next exit. He didn't mean it, of course, but Spike had griped and moaned and eventually stuffed the unlit cigarette back into the box, throwing the pack into the back of the car, muttering.  
Spike had passed the following couple of hours cat-napping, only waking when Xander exited the freeway straight into gridlocked traffic, grinding to a halt.

"Do you always talk in your sleep like that?" Xander looked across at the stirring vampire with an amused grin. It wasn't something he recalled from their basement-sharing days. Then again, souled Spike was a very different person.

Spike lifted his head from the window pane and rolled his shoulders before sitting up straight with a shrug.

"Dunno." he replied, instinctively reaching into his duster for his cigs. Finding the pockets empty, he rolled his eyes as he remembered why. "Been a while since I had company."

In truth, Spike hadn't shared his bed at all since he'd come back. He was surprised he'd been so soundly asleep, especially as it was still dark out.  
Xander glanced at the dashboard clock and peered out into the pre-dawn dim light.

"Reckon we've got about an hour until dawn." he said, scanning the signs along the side of the road. "There's a service station in two miles. We can pull off for something to eat, if you like?"

Spike heard what Xander wasn't saying. He knew that he was suggesting pulling over so Spike could have a smoke before dawn broke and they were confined to the car with its vampire-friendly blacked out windows until they reached their motel.

"Sure." Spike replied, glancing at the unmoving line of traffic and hoping it started moving soon, "If ya like." He was hungry too, not having eaten since before he'd slept back at AI. He figured Xander probably hadn't eaten either. The man was a bundle of nervous energy and, right now, he was radiating impatience and hunger in equal amounts.

"These damn queues." Xander griped, banging a hand on the steering wheel and turning to look sheepishly at Spike. "Sorry. I need sugar."

Spike looked out of the window and nodded understandingly. He knew all about need. The need to feed; to eat; to touch; to be wanted. And where had those last thoughts come from?

"Ya know, Spike." Xander said, his voice sing-songing as if his outburst mere seconds earlier had been a figment of Spike's imagination, "I never got chance to thank you for what you did. Down there, I mean. In Sunnydale."

Spike turned his head towards Xander, who was once again avoiding eye contact with the vampire.

"It was a good thing you did. Buffy told me. You could have stopped. Gotten out with the rest of us... well, those of us who did..." Xander trailed off, the memory of Anya's loss never far enough from his mind to make thinking about it and her any easier. "Anyway, you could have gotten out. But you stayed. Did the heroic thing and finished the job. Finished Sunnydale and the Hellmouth."

At that point, Xander did turn to face Spike.

"I dunno if anyone has ever really said thanks for that." Xander shrugged. He really didn't know. He suspected that the likes of Buffy and Giles wouldn't say such a thing. Buffy had moved on, and Giles was... well, Giles. Maybe Willow...

"Thanks, pet."

Spike smiled. Not a self-righteous Spike smile but a humble and slightly embarrassed smile. Nobody had said anything about Sunnydale really. Nobody had really asked him about it. About what had happened after he... went. He hadn't even given it much thought, with much of his early time back at AI being spent trying to make him corporeal again (and in Angel's case, trying to get rid of him altogether!)

"What was it like?" 

Xander's voice broke Spike out of his thoughts, thinking about those early days at AI; about Gunn, and Wesley, and Fred. Dear sweet Fred. He turned to Xander again, who had momentarily focussed his eyes back on the road to move the measly 300 yards in the traffic. How the hell were these roads so busy at this time of the morning?

"Well, pet. It hurt like hell for one thing." Spike chuckled, going for light-hearted but not really pulling it off. "Kinda like being set on fire from the inside out."

Xander glanced across, noticing that Spike's light tone didn't match the expression on the vampire's face.

"I felt it, ya know." Spike's eyes glazed for a second. "My soul, I mean. I actually felt it inside me." The vampire pressed the heel of his hand against his chest. 

"In here. Just before... well, Buffy and the girls left, and it all fell apart." Spike shrugged, as if he'd been talking about nothing important.

"One second I was burning up in the Hellmouth, the next second I was shrieking in the halls of Wolfram and Hart."

Xander put the car into park and fiddled anxiously with his hands in his lap.

"Nothing in between?" he eventually asked, uncertain of the response. Xander had assumed - and nobody had ever told him about Spike's return, so he really hadn't had anybody to ask to be told otherwise - that Spike had spent the time he was... gone... in hell, like Angel... or heaven, like Buffy... or some halfway house for demons who have maybe redeemed themselves. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't given any thought, in the years since, to the fate of the blonde vampire who saved the world that day. He would never have expected Spike to have just had nothing.

"Nothing." Spike confirmed casually, "It's kinda OK though, ya know. No bells and whistles. No fanfares. No seventy-six trombones. It was just... like nothing had happened really." he shrugged again, turning away from Xander's scrutinising glare to look back out of the window. He jumped slightly when he felt a firm hand on his left knee and turned back to see Xander reached across to him, squeezing gently.

"Well, I'm glad you're back now."


	30. Chapter 30

The next 15 minutes saw the car crawl slowly along the remaining mile and a half of highway towards the service station. 

"20 minutes?" Xander eyed the horizon nervously as they climbed out and headed towards the shop.

"Tops." Spike nodded, leaning in to pull his smokes out from the back of the car. He could already feel dawn's prickle under his skin, and it wasn't a sensation he was fond of. He tapped a cigarette out of the pack and lit up, taking a long-needed drag into his lungs.

"Want anything?" Xander turned back from halfway to the store, shouting to Spike who hadn't moved to follow. He smirked at the sight of the blond vampire, leaning back against the car door, duster hanging slack against his sides and cigarette smoke weaving its way up into the rapidly lightening sky. Xander suddenly felt a surge of something strange. Something which reminded him just how close Spike had come to death; how different things could have been. If they'd arrived later, less well-prepared. If Xander hadn't come to LA at all...

"Oh, I dunno." Spike's reply came through the exhale of smoke, "Donuts, bagels, whatever it is they sell in these places."

Xander laughed and pushed open the door to the store. Spike crushed the stub of his cigarette under his boot and slid into the back seat of the car. He was about to grab a pouch from the cooler when he realised he had no way of warming it. He glanced briefly at the store, wondering if they'd object to him warming it in their kitchen, before shaking his head with a chuckle and closing the cooler again. It'd have to wait. Four more hours and they'd be in Bordensville anyway. They'd just have to make sure they checked in to a Motel with a microwave in the room.

A moment later, Xander exited the store, arms laden and laughing and joking with the store clerk - a pretty young thing with long dark hair. Spike scowled briefly and pulled himself back out of the car, quickly crossing to Xander and taking some of the items from him. The vampire stared daggers at the clerk, who was still watching after Xander, and slung an arm casually around his friend. 

The message was loud and clear. 

"Mine!", it said, although Xander paid it no attention as the two crossed the car park and he reached for the door handle, sliding out of Spike's possessive grip and dropping his armful onto the rear seat.

"Got you a hot dog." Xander smiled, passing a long box to the vampire who took it with a smile. "With mustard and onions, of course. Just how you like it." 

"Cheers, pet." Spike felt a flutter of appreciation that the boy had remembered. It'd been a long time. Too long.

"And I picked you up a pack of these." Xander threw a packet across to Spike and leaned down to climb back into the driver's seat.

Spike caught it one-handed, thanks only to his preternatural sense of speed and precision, and peered at the packet.

"Hershey's Kisses?" he chuckled, tearing at the top with his mouth and pulling one out, unwrapping it indelicately with his teeth and slipping it between his lips. The obscene noises of appreciation that came from Spike next elicited a raised eyebrow from his companion.

Spike, unaffected by the attention so caught up he was in chocolate delight, took a moment to slide back into the passenger side and pulled the door closed, setting the hot dog box down on his lap alongside the chocolate packet.

"Hugs actually." Xander smiled, deliberately not looking at the vampire with his alluring look of pure chocolate heaven delight. "I figured we weren't quite ready for kisses yet."

A soft silence hung in the air for a moment as both men processed those few words and what they meant. 

Xander had deliberately chosen the Hershey's for Spike. They had called to him, from the counter in the store, almost as clearly as if they had Spike's name on them. He had remembered Spike's fondness for the good stuff. The hours the two of them had spent on Xander's sofa, scoffing packet after packet during movie night. He spotted the Kisses first and had picked them up and put them down several times in indecision. 

Then he'd spotted the Hugs.   
Then he had chuckled at his own uncertainty over a packet of chocolates.  
Then he'd bought the Hugs anyway.

Spike ran his fingers around the next Hug he pulled out, feeling the crinkles of the folds in the striped foil wrapper. Xander had chosen them deliberately. He knew that the boy knew of his fondness for chocolates, particularly Hershey's, but Spike couldn't quite get his head around the fact that Xan had chosen them specifically for him. It was personal; special. It was... nice. And the Hugs. He'd deliberately chosen Hugs over Kisses. A conscious move that said something. 

What did it say? 

That Xander was offering his own distinctive brand of comfort? A way to say "Hey" and "You're not alone" and "I'm here for you" and "Let's do this together"?

The comfortable silence stretched on. Xander turned the key in the ignition, pulling back onto the highway, thankful of the now more free-flowing traffic, and Spike turned to look out of the window, watching the brightening dawn sky as he munched on his hot dog.

Neither spoke for several minutes, but no words were needed. 

There was something between them.  
Neither man knew what it was, but it was new, and it was strong, and it was there.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a day late, peeps. Had computer issues yesterday and I just plain forgot about it!

Dawn arrived quickly as the pair drove in amiable silence towards their destination. Bordensville was a small town with a dwindling population, and it struck Spike that it was an unusual place for a vampire to be living. Small town populations tended to be insular, tight knit and curious. Not the place for somebody whose existence depended on not being discovered.

Giles hadn't had much information about either the town or Melandra herself, and nobody would be able to ask Angel until he was recovered at least a little. All Giles knew was that Melandra, once a simple vampire girl, a nobody turned by a nobody, had found herself on the wrong side of two vampires who turned out to have been Angelus and Drusilla. For whatever reason, they had apparently tortured her with the Garchen's knife before letting her go again, and somehow, she had found someone or something to heal herself. 

The exact details of how she was healed were a mystery. The Watchers' journals held little information on the recovery itself although they did appear to have some significant record of her activities since. She'd become, so she thought, invincible, and this led to her being rash and impulsive, doing stupid things that no right-minded vampire would ever consider doing. It was only by pure luck that she had so far gotten away without being killed, but it was something that Spike and Xander had to take into consideration during their trip.

Melandra thought she was better, stronger, more powerful than any other vampire, yet she chose to live in a small rural town, to hide herself away from both humans and demons alike.

It was... perplexing,

"Only about another half hour." Xander yawned, reaching his right hand across to grab the coffee cup from the console. "I'm beat."

Spike hummed wordlessly. He wasn't particularly tired, but he was hungry and beginning to feel antsy from being cooped up in the car for so long. Music and the radio had only provided a half-hearted distraction, and the more that Spike thought about it, the more he realised that he really, REALLY needed to feed. He shifted in his seat, letting out a long sigh before turning to Xander. 

"I wish you'd have let me take a turn driving, you know." he complained. The change of positions might have provided some better distraction, a reason to be awake.

Xander shook his head.

"Definitely not." he said firmly, not taking his eyes off the road for fear of breaking his fragile concentration. "You're in no position to drive. You still need to heal, to be in tip-top condition for whatever happens in this god-forsaken town."

Spike sighed again. He hated being treated like an invalid, but the boy had a point. The prolonged period of inactivity had allowed his injuries to heal much more effectively, and he couldn't deny that he felt a whole lot better for it.

"Bordensville 20 miles" the signpost read, and both men glanced at each other briefly. It'd felt like they would never get there. 

"I hope there's food at this place." Xander stretched his neck side to side in an effort to release the tension that had grown there after so long sat at the wheel. 

"Oh, if it's a hokey little rural town," Spike began, trying to avoid watching the seductive curve of Xander's neck as he leaned unthinkingly away from the vampire, "there'll be local cafe or a chicken shack..."

"Or a bar." Xander interrupted with a chuckle.

"Sure." Spike laughed, "A bar. The perfect place to make discreet enquiries about whether anybody had seen a vampire. 'Pale girl, looks about 19, actually nearer 150, doesn't go out during the day, snacks on people.' I'm sure we'll get plenty of folk offering their help."

Xander sighed noisily.

"No need to be sarcastic, Spike." He threw his empty coffee carton at the vampire who instinctively batted it into the footwell. "I just thought we could do with a drink, something to eat, scope out the area BEFORE we start sniffing about."

"Maybe you got something there, whelp." Spike nodded, "We'll get checked into the motel, I'll heat myself a bag and then we can head out." He glanced at the clock. It was nearly 10am and Spike just hoped that the motel owner would let them check in early. He couldn't imagine that the place could be fully booked. It was slap bang in the middle of absolutely nowhere. 

The rest of the journey passed in a kind of tentative silence, neither man feeling entirely comfortable as they neared their destination. As they passed the sign indicating that they had entered Bordensville - population 1,367 - Spike glanced across to Xander who was scanning the side of the street for the motel.

"You OK?"

Xander didn't immediately answer, distracted as he was scouring the old rustic signs along the street.

"Here." He finally spoke, pulling the car into the dusty parking lot, a small area, big enough only for maybe 7 or 8 cars, the surface of which was rough and loose.  
As Xander drove the car into one of the only two vacant spaces which, fortunately for the sunlight-challenged of the pair, had an old corrugated iron covering, only then did he turn to Spike and, noting his look of anticipation, realised he hadn't acknowledged the vampire's question.

"Not really."

He put the car in park and sat back in the seat, letting out a long sigh. Spike cocked his head, silently questioning.

"What are we doing here, Spike?"

The vampire raised an eyebrow, unsure exactly how to answer that. Xander was having doubts. It wasn't surprising really. They were almost on a fool's errand, driving into No Man's Land to hunt for a supposedly powerful vampire and collect her blood so they could take it home and heal a cursed Angel.  
Actually, the more Spike thought about it, the more completely insane it sounded, but he chose not to share that sentiment with Xander.

"Saving a friend, Xan." he eventually replied, pulling the door handle and climbing out of the car. He reached into the back, grabbing the cooler and a duffle before walking around to the driver's door and noticing that Xander still hadn't moved.

"Come on." Spike smiled. He dropped the duffle to the ground and opened the door, extending a hand, "Let's get these rooms sorted and then we can unwind for a bit."

Xander sighed again before reaching for Spike's hand, allowing himself to be pulled out of the car. As he stood, he found himself closer to the vampire than he had anticipated, having been pulled almost nose to nose with Spike.  
They stood for a long moment, not saying anything, not doing anything, just breathing with slightly heavier than usual breaths in each other's personal space.  
It was strange; slightly tense; awkward and oddly arousing.

Spike dropped Xander's hand and pushed the driver's door closed again, as if the moment hadn't happened and, picking back up the duffle started towards what seemed to be the motel reception, taking a somewhat indirect route to avoid open and unshaded areas.

Xander stared after him.   
What was that? He couldn't work out what had just happened. Had Spike done it on purpose or was it an accident. He had instinctively grabbed the hand that had been held out to him, not really thinking through who was offering it. 

And that moment, that proximity, being so close to Spike. It felt awkward and comfortable at the same time. Like he wanted it so badly yet he couldn't help feeling an urge to run away.  
What did it mean?

Xander shook himself. He leaned into the trunk, pulling out the rest of their gear, and headed off, in a quicker, more direct route, to the reception.

He needed something to eat and possibly a stiff drink.  
He was well and truly losing his mind.


	32. Chapter 32

"Spike!"

Andrew ran through from the kitchen, wringing his hands on the towel as he crossed to the thrashing vampire. Angel's face was faltering between human and demon, and Andrew hesitated a moment before approaching.

"Angel?" he questioned, his voice quiet and calmer than he felt. "Angel, it's Andrew."

Angel's unneeded breaths came ragged and uneven.

"Spike." he mumbled again, eyes flickering open as he tried to focus on his surroundings. Andrew stepped forwards and knelt alongside the vampire, tentatively resting a hand on his arm.

"Andrew?"

Andrew swallowed hard and nodded.

"Yes, Angel. It's me."

Angel began to shuffle under Andrew's grip, attempting to sit up but failing noisily with a long groan.

"Be careful." Andrew warned, helping the vampire to settle back in a half-sitting position on the sofa for a moment, to recover a little. "You're still not healed."

Angel's eyes darted across the room, noting the empty second sofa.

"Spike?" he said again, carefully swinging his legs round so he could sit properly. He winced at the pull on his torso and glanced down at his chest, noticing three large wounds which were still bleeding fresh blood through the bandages covering them. He pulled the fabric away, and Andrew brought the towel up, pressing carefully against the damaged flesh in an attempt to stem the slow flow.

"Yeah." Andrew replied, sitting down next to Angel and fiddling with his hands in his lap. "I guess you need bringing up to speed."

"Firstly, Spike's OK." Andrew felt the need to clarify that before he gave all the details. Angel needed to hear it. "Willow came, and she did a spell to remove the Garchen's knife's curse. Spike is healing well." He didn't offer any additional information about Spike's current whereabouts. It could wait a while.

"But I'm not." Angel stated gravely, grimacing as he held the towel against the wounds. It was obvious that his vampire healing wasn't doing as it should. Andrew glanced sideways at the vampire and turned away again quickly, dropping his head back to his hands.

"No. No, you're not. The spell that... the one that Willow used to bind your soul..." Andrew took a deep breath, desperately trying to get his thoughts in order, "... it... well, it was written to bind the curse to you. To ensure that no moments of 'perfect happiness' would allow the soul to be removed again." The air quotes Andrew used elicited a raised eyebrow from the vampire.

"Unfortunately," Andrew continued, still avoiding Angel's direct gaze, "that older spell has also bound the Garchen's curse. Willow's spell was ineffective on you."

At this point, Andrew did look around, finding himself face to face with his solemn-faced friend.

"Right." Angel eventually responded, nodding slowly as he removed the towel and dropped it onto the side table. "So I guess I'm going to be out of action for a while then. This will heal slowly, if at all, and at the rate that I'm still losing blood..."

Andrew raised a hand, halting Angel from continuing.

"I have blood for you. Fresh blood, from today, from Brutus. We should be able keep you ticking over until Spike and Xander get back."

Angel's head shot around with a low growl, eyes rimmed with gold and face barely maintaining its human form.

Shit. Andrew winced. He hadn't quite meant it to come out that way, and now he had an irate, injured vampire to placate. He chewed on his bottom limp nervously.

"Andrew." Angel's face was deadly serious. "Where. Is. Spike?"

Andrew dropped himself back against the sofa cushion with a long sigh.

"It's a long story, Angel, but I'll try to cut it shorter. We needed a way to cure you. Giles discovered that there was vampire who had been tortured by a Garchen's knife over 100 years ago, who was cured, and now her blood contains a kind of remedy for it. Spike and Xander have gone to find her so we can bring back her blood and cure you."

There. That was it. Granted, it was something of an abridged version, but it said enough.

Angel hadn't said anything in response. He was quietly looking at Andrew, and it was clear that he was running things through his mind. After a couple of minutes of silence, he nodded again.

"Melandra." 

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Angel knew. He knew it. He could feel it. He suddenly became acutely aware of yet another part of his... Angelus's vile past being common knowledge.

"You know, don't you?" Angel's voice was resigned. He hated Angelus and he hated how the things his demon had done kept coming back to haunt him.

"Angelus and Drusilla." Andrew replied bravely. This was no time to play ignorant. "Yeah. We know. But that's not the point, Angel. The point is that there IS a cure for this. And Spike and Xander WILL find Melandra and you WILL recover."

His voice faltered as he spoke, unwillingly showing the plethora of emotions that he had been bottling up and pushing down for the last 24 hours.

"Spike was healing fine when he left, and Xander will look after him. He's done good since he got here, Angel. He's already gone over and above the call of duty. They'll find her."

Angel sighed a long, unneeded breath. 

"And the Reacher?"

The question threw Andrew off-guard a little. He hadn't even given the Reacher a second thought since they had all arrived back at AI.

"Dead." he answered matter of factly. "Xander killed him."

The surprise in Angel's face was unhidden and evident. Andrew's questioning look was clearly equally so. Why on earth did Angel look so affected by news of the Reacher's death. As far as Andrew knew, Angel hadn't even known the Reacher.  
Angel shrugged.

"I guess I'd better tell you some stuff too... about me and the Reacher..."


	33. Chapter 33

"Two rooms in the name of..." Xander stumbled, unsure what names the rooms were actually booked in... "Harris?" he tried with a shrug. He glanced around just as Spike stumbled in through the doorway, having had to take a rather "dodge the sun" route from the undercover parking to reception.

The clerk raised an eyebrow at Spike's rather dramatic entrance but quickly ignored it in favour of scanning the booking log.

"Ah. Yes. Mr Harris. Umm...ahh." 

The clerk looked from Xander to Spike, who was now stood alongside him at the desk.

"My message wasn't passed on?"

Xander looked from the clerk to Spike and back to the clerk again.

"Message?"

The clerk screwed up his face, nervously glancing back down to the book again, before licking his lips and, with a long exhale, raising his head to address the two men.

"I'm afraid that we are fully booked for the convention this weekend, Mr Harris, and we only have one twin room available. It is on the ground floor, as requested..." the clerk added quickly, hoping it would go some way to make up for it.

"Convention?" Xander asked, almost not even hearing the rest of what the clerk said. "What convention?"

"You guys really aren't from around here, huh?" The clerk chuckled, sliding a crudely designed leaflet towards Xander. 

"Annual Convention of the Supernatural. Ghouls, Ghosts and Mystical Creatures." Xander read with a smirk, passing the flyer to Spike who was chewing on his bottom lip in an effort to not laugh or say anything stupid. 

"It's a big thing locally." the clerk said proudly. "Good for business. Brings in all sorts."

"I'll bet it does." Spike snorted, casting his own eyes over the leaflet and stuffing it into his duster pocket before composing himself again

"Dunno why he booked two rooms to begin with, mate." Spike looked at Xander and shrugged. "Twin's fine."

Xander nodded in agreement.

The clerk barely hid his surprised response and reached around to lift the room key down from the board. He'd expected rather more protest from the men.

"Room 17. Down on the left outside." He handed the key over to Xander who took it with a grimace at the mention of outside.

"If you prefer, Mr Harris, we have an inside access corridor also?"

Xander lifted his head, trying not to look too suspiciously at the clerk. The man turned back to writing something in the book on the back table, deliberately avoiding the eyes of both men.

"Through the door behind you. Room 17 is at the end on your right."

Xander stood frozen for a moment, gawping at the back of the man's head, unsure what to say.

"C'mon, Xan." Spike said, lifting a holdall and the cooler and nodding his head in the direction of the internal door. "Let's get sorted. I'm starving."

Xander still didn't say anything. He picked up the remaining bags and followed Spike through the door, feeling the curious stare of the clerk behind them as it swung closed again.

"What do you think made him say that?"

Xander turned the key and gave the door a hefty push. He entered quickly, dropping the bags onto one of the beds and looking around at the room itself. It seemed nice enough. Two beds, side tables, a large dresser with a microwave on it and a small fridge alongside it and a further door which he presumed led to a bathroom.  
Spike opened the fridge and began emptying the pouches from the cooler into it.

"Maybe this place ain't as innocent as it looks." he replied, pushing the fridge door closed and putting two of the blood bags into the microwave. "It's a poxy little town that holds a convention every year for supernatural stuff. How normal can it be?"

Xander shifted the bags back onto the floor and flopped down onto the bed, softly bouncing to test its comfort as he watched Spike drain the blood straight from the bags.

"Better?" he asked when Spike dropped onto the second bed with a satiated groan. Xander never could get used to the sight of Spike feeding that way. There was something almost intimate about it and it felt intrusive to watch yet he couldn't quite bring himself to look away.

Spike grunted and let out a long sigh.

"You need something to eat too, whelp?" he asked, reverting back to the nickname as he often did when he was feeling revitalised and cocky after feeding.

Xander rolled his head round to look sideways at Spike, from bed to bed.

"I can wait." He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. "I'm beat right now, and you can't go out anyway."

The sun was still high in the sky and dusk wouldn't arrive for at least another 6 hours.

"I'll grab some sleep now, and we'll go out again later."

He kinked his head side to side, loosening it up, and Spike couldn't help noticing that lean, strong neck. Having just fed, his senses were heightened and he could swear he was able to hear Xander's pulse as the blood rushed through his veins. Xander tipped his head the other way and Spike bit back a groan. He'd never really looked at the boy that way before. 

This new, grown up Xander was so different from the boy he once knew.  
Now he was stronger, more confident even in his moments of doubt, and he was having a profound effect on Spike as he flexed his neck and arms.

"I could use a short kip too." Spike blurted out awkwardly in his attempt to cover up what he was feeling and, more dangerously, what he was thinking. Xander didn't notice, merely answering with a hum and a nod.

"We can both head out afterwards and get some food and fresh air." the vampire added, deliberately rolling over to face away from Xander. "Then we can start fishing about a bit and see what kind of freaks come to these conventions."

Xander hummed again, quickly glancing over to Spike before settling again and closing his eyes.

"You'll fit right in."


	34. Chapter 34

"Get off me!!"

The shout roused even the sleeping vampire, who darted out of bed on high alert.

"Stop. Stop it. Dad... Please... stop."

The shouts faded to a soft whimper, but Xander was still thrashing about on the bed, his arms wrapped around himself.

"Stop..."

The room fell into silence again, and Spike watched as the sleeping Xander went from frantic to softly sobbing in a foetal position. Spike stood still, unsure what he had just witnessed and even less sure what to do.  
As the sobbing became even more ragged, the vampire sat on Xander's bed.

"Hey. Xan." he said quietly, softly resting his hand on a shaking arm. "Xan. Wake up. You had a bad dream, mate."

Spike firmed up his grip on the arm, trying to rouse the boy from his distressed sleeping state. As he did so, Xander's eyes shot open and he let out a shriek as he sat up abruptly.

"Please don't, Dad."

Spike snatched his hand back, holding it to his own body almost guiltily. He didn't stand, but he watched cautiously as Xander slowly came around and shuffled himself back so he was sitting against the headboard of the bed.

"Jesus, Spike. You scared the shit outta me."

Spike raised an eyebrow.

"You scared shit outta me first, mate." he said calmly, not quite sure how much to mention of what he heard. "Having a bad dream or something you were. Shouting and yelling."

Xander nodded.

"Yeah. Been a while since there's been anyone around to witness those." He wiped his hand across his face, feeling the dampness of tears as he shuddered out a shaky breath. "Crying too."

Spike tried not to look at Xander. He didn't want him to feel self-conscious or embarrassed, but he also didn't want him to feel alone.

"Wanna talk about it?" The vampire looked sideways at his friend. Xander was his friend, and it seemed only right to ask.

Xander tipped his head to look at Spike more squarely.

"Really wanna hear about it?" he asked dubiously. This wasn't the Spike he remembered from basement sharing days. He almost sounded like he actually cared. "It's really not interesting... or..."

Spike lifted his head fully, looking Xander straight in the eyes.

"Xan, if it's something you don't wanna talk about, I get it, OK? But if you do..."

There was an awkward silence between the two men for a few seconds as Xander silently debated with himself. Could he really share this kind of thing with Spike? Maybe it'd be better if he just brushed it off as nothing; a simple nightmare; not an echo back to years gone by. 

Or maybe sharing really would help. After all, Spike had changed. He was different. Calmer, more... human. Hell, even Xander himself wasn't the same person as Spike had shared a basement with all those years ago. He'd moved on from so much, but there were some things that still haunted him; that plagued his dreams.

"How much did you hear?"

Xander's voice was hesitant and small. As if he doubted himself even after he has chosen to ask.

Spike nodded, first to himself and then to Xander. The boy had chosen to share. This was a big moment and Spike didn't want to screw it up.

"You were shouting out for someone to stop. Shouting out to..." Spike stalled, noting that Xander was hanging on his words, clearly both anxious and nervous to hear what Spike had to say, "... to yer Dad."

Xander nodded slowly. He suspected as much. His nightmares usually revolved around experiences with his father. 

"I figured." Xander replied calmly, choking back a sob as emotions washed over him. It wasn't something he had ever spoken about before, and what the hell was he doing sharing this with Spike?!  
Still, in for a penny...

"My Dad," he continued, dropping his head to avoid Spike's gaze, feeling it would be easier to pretend that he was talking to himself rather than the blonde vampire, "My Dad was an ass. He was a drunk. A mean drunk. He would go out almost every day when I was a kid, and he'd stumble home in the small hours of the morning, straight into my room."

Xander forced himself to swallow around the lump in his throat which threatened to choke him.

"How often?" Spike barely stifled the growl, pushing down the threat of his rising demon. That wouldn't be helpful right now. 

"Pretty much every night for years." Xander's voice gained confidence, but he still didn't raise his head. "Started when I was about 6 or 7, I think." He ignored the strangled noise that came from the vampire. "To begin with, he just used to push me around a bit. I dunno, used me to relieve some stress or something. Then he realised I was growing up... and I guess his view of me changed... along with how he treated me. I went from being a punch bag to being... something else..."

Xander risked a quick glance at Spike, whose eyes were darting all over the room. He looked mad, like he was looking for something or someone to punch.

"Hey, Spike." Xander grounded the vampire, bringing his focus back to him and watching his eyes soften a little as they settled on Xander's face. "There's nothing you can do about it now." 

Spike made to speak, but Xander cut him off with a quick shake of the head.

"They both died when Sunnydale collapsed."

Xander had wrestled with mixed emotions about that ever since Sunnydale was destroyed. He'd fought with feelings of guilt, but not guilt for not getting his parents out and to safety. Guilt for not feeling bad about their deaths. Guilt for feeling almost pleased; relieved; free.

"It didn't stop the nightmares though?"

Xander shook his head.

"At first." he said, keeping his focus on Spike. "When I was in Africa, they pretty much stopped. Too much going on, I suppose. Then, when I got back to the UK and there was nothing there for me, nothing to distract me..."

"They started again..." Spike filled in. He'd had no idea. There'd been no indication of anything. Xander had never indicated that there was anything like this going on...

"It's not your fault, you know, Spike."

The vampire let out a short chuckle. Xander was trying to make HIM feel better.

"I should have been able to sense it."

This time, it was Xander who laughed.

"Seriously, Spike? Seriously? Nobody knew. Dad wasn't stupid. He was careful. When you had to come and stay in the basement, I was worried that he'd come down and find you there and take it out on me, but he was more sly than that. He stayed away, just long enough... only coming back when..."

Spike's growl was loud, and he jumped up from the bed, approaching the wall in full game face with his fists balled, only stopping short of punching it when he felt Xander's hand on his shoulder.  
The vampire turned around and stood square on to his friend.

"He's dead, Spike." Xander repeated, guiding Spike back to the bed again where Xander lay himself down on the cheap motel mattress and Spike sat alongside him. Xander took a long breath to compose himself, yawning as he lay his head down on the pillow before continuing.

"When I was living in Scotland, the nightmares took me over. They came every night, and I'd wake screaming and fighting an invisible enemy; a dead man. The only thing that made it better, made it...bearable... was the drink. If I drank myself to sleep, I'd sleep deeper, less likely to dream. I had no one. Nothing to distract me. Nothing to make it go away. I'm a fucking mess." 

Xander's voice hitched and a sob escaped him again. He curled himself into the comforter and tried and failed to hold it back, even though he knew he was safe now. Safe here. Safe with Spike.

Spike turned his body to face Xander, watching the boy as he wrestled with the feelings and emotions that were clearly overwhelming him. He looked drained; worn; exhausted. Spike's face slipped back to human, and his hand hovered over an arm, unsure whether Xander needed any form of comfort.

"Xan." he started, dropping his hand to his lap and deliberately keeping his distance from the boy whose eyes had fallen closed in light slumber, "You're safe here. I mean, in LA. At Angel's. You'll be useful, you'll have purpose... and friends..." he paused briefly, feeling the slight awkwardness, a frisson of energy that Spike felt deep inside him, in his soul. He swallowed hard.

"... and you have me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of chapter last Thursday.  
> Quite honestly, I just plain forgot!
> 
> I might start updating weekly over the holiday period anyway, because I have a lot on (such as a trip to see family in the UK for Christmas and New Year), but I'll return to twice weekly when we get back to work/school/Portugal next year :-)


	35. Chapter 35

Xander woke again, several hours later, with a head that felt like thunder. He rubbed his hands across his face, trying to recall why he felt so rough. He hadn't been drinking so that wasn't it. He glanced at his watch: 5.30pm. He blinked hard as he shook his mind, remembering where he was and why. 

He froze.  
Spike.

Shit.

The events from earlier that afternoon flooded back to him, and he let out a loud groan.

"Xan?"

Spike had been cat-napping for the past hour or so. He'd rolled over to find Xander still sleeping, but sleeping peacefully, so he'd deliberately left him and stayed stretched out on the bed. It was too early to do much else anyway.

"Spike... sorry...what I said earlier..."

Spike sat up on the bed and swung his legs around so he was facing Xander. He looked rested but anxious. Like he was regretting sharing.

"Don't!" he said firmly. "Don't you even start to apologise for what you told me. What happened to you... it was wrong."

As Xander dropped his head back down onto his pillow with a moan, Spike began to feel woefully not cut out for this kind of conversation.

"Let's not talk about it, eh? If that's what works best for you?"

The question was left open, unanswered by Xander whose breathing had sped up quite significantly. He began to feel panicky and out of control, and he quickly recognised the symptoms for what they were: a looming panic attack.  
He leapt up from the bed, turning away from Spike so he couldn't see.

"I'm going for a shower." he said quickly, pushing open the bathroom door and sliding the lock purposely closed behind him. He leant back against the door, letting his head bang on the hard wood as he exhaled hard.

God, what was he thinking? Sharing something so private, so personal, with Spike.   
Spike of all people. He barely knew this Spike. He'd spent mere hours with him since he had returned to LA and now they were sharing? Xander thought back to their conversation. Spike had seemed genuinely concerned. He'd certainly been angry afterwards. And the guilt. Spike had felt guilty. Xander frowned as he processed all that, and he realised that his panic attack had passed.  
He flicked on the shower, climbing in when the water began to steam and enjoying the sting as it burned away all the dirt and grime from memories of times gone by.

"Better?"

Xander jumped as he stepped back into the bedroom, towel around his waist. He had been so engrossed in his shower that he had pretty much forgotten that he wasn't alone. Good thing he had wrapped the towel tightly.

"Umm, yeah. Thanks." he stuttered, crouching to retrieve clean underwear from the duffel and slipping it on under the towel. He sat on the bed as he pulled on his trousers and stood again, removing the towel from his waist and scrubbing it roughly across his damp hair.

Spike tried not to look. He really did.  
But the boy just looked so...

"I'll just finish getting dressed and we can head out and start scouting about."

Xander's voice shook Spike from where his mind was going, and the vampire found himself half-relieved and half-annoyed.

"Sure." Spike's reply was short and terse, and Xander gave him a sideways glance as he returned from hanging the damp towel over the bathroom rail.

"I'm starving too." Xander wriggled himself into a clean tee and layered a shirt over it. Spike shifted his attention from the boy and took a moment to assess his own appearance. He ran a hand through his flattened hair, raising the blonde lengths into a more acceptable shape.

"Yeah. 'm ready." Spike said, pushing his shoulders back with a glance into the mirror where, in the obvious absence of his own reflection, he sneakily observed Xander's.

Xander grabbed his wallet from the side table and headed for the door, Spike behind him. They took the indoor corridor again, emerging at reception just as a tall couple, dressed as Dracula-type vampires, headed back out of the door.

"Convention." the clerk said, indicating towards the exiting couple. "There's all sorts here this weekend."

"Right." Xander hid a smirk at the stereotypical outfits. "Well... yeah... so where do you recommend for dinner then? Somewhere maybe where the locals eat?"

The clerk flicked his eyes across to Spike and back to Xander.

"There's Mojo's. It's a bit off the main road, but it's decent food and decent music, if you're into that sort of thing. Locals hang out there most evenings. It'll probably be busier than usual this weekend with folk avoiding the convention lot."

He pushed a small flyer for the bar across to Xander and turned it over, showing a crudely printed map on the reverse.

"Mojo's it is then." Spike grabbed the flyer, shoving it into his duster pocket as he turned and swept out of the exit door.

"Right. Mojo's it is then!" Xander repeated, eyes rolling as he nodded his thanks to the clerk and followed the vampire - the real vampire - out of the door.

"Wait up, Spike." he shouted, breaking into a half-jog to catch up with the blonde who was already halfway across the car park. "Jees, in a hurry much?"

Spike slowed fractionally to allow Xander to get level with him.

"Sorry, Xan. Wanted to get another look at those two before they vanished." He nodded to the two in fancy dress who had just stopped on the sidewalk to examine a small town map. Xander scanned the area, noticing several other groups of people milling about.

"We're supposed to find a real vampire in this lot." Spike mumbled, reaching into his duster and pulling out the flyer again. "This way." He indicated down a small side street. Xander followed as they headed out of the more crowded area and into the quieter streets off the main road.

"Melandra will probably be doing one of two things this weekend." Spike continued, pulling a smoke from the other pocket of his duster and lighting it up. "She could be hanging with the locals. They've gotta know who she is, even if they don't know what she is. A town this small is no place to stay hidden."

Spike glanced at Xander who had stuffed his hands into his pockets and was listening intently.

"Or?" 

Spike blew out a long stream of smoke. The second option wasn't something he'd even considered until they'd arrived in Bordensville.

"Or she could be hiding in plain sight with the convention lot."

"Great." Xander groaned. The convention certainly wasn't going to make their job any easier, if that was the case. Melandra could be disguised as anyone or anything. 

It suddenly dawned on him that, if they ended up having to join the convention lot in an attempt to find her, they themselves could end up being identified by Melandra before they recognised her from the sketches they'd seen.

"Err, Spike." Xander stopped walking, reaching out and grabbing Spike's arm to halt the vampire in his tracks too. Spike tutted and turned around.

"Will Melandra know who you are? I mean, she's been around a long time, and she obviously knows Angelus and Dru. Will she recognise you?"

"Dunno, mate." Spike shrugged. He'd been around. People - well, vampires - tended to know of him by reputation but less so by sight. "She might know of me, I s'pose. But I dunno if she'll know what I look like or anything."

Why hadn't they considered this before? They'd been so preoccupied with keeping Angel safe that they hadn't even given a second thought to whether Melandra would know Spike.

"Maybe...umm.. maybe we should call you something else then? Just in case... you know..." Xander stumbled over his words, unsure whether to suggest calling Spike "Will" or something else but deciding the let the vampire himself make that call.

"Be fine, Xan." Spike dropped his cigarette, stubbing it out with his boot before turning and starting to walk again. It'd been a very long time since anybody had called him anything except Spike... or those infernally annoying nicknames that occasionally got thrown out by the likes of Harmony... or Xander himself. "We'll cross that bridge if and when."

They exited the side street onto another main road which ran almost parallel to the first but was rather more dusty and unused. Mojo's was lit with a single neon sign, and as they approached it, they could see quite a gathering inside.

"OK then." Xander said, taking a deep breath and standing up straight.

"Let's do this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry for the lack of updates, guys.   
> I've been so ridiculously busy visiting folk here in the UK that my schedule is completely on its head!  
> I've got dozens of fic updates marked to read, and I've written nothing for weeks. I'm getting withdrawals all round. 
> 
> Hopefully when I get back home (flying home Thursday) I can whip myself back into a routine again.


	36. chapter 36

Spike pushed open Mojo's main doors and approached the bar with Xander not far behind him.

"Two pints, please." He nodded to the bartender - a tall, well-dressed man who looked to be in his early 20s. "And a bar menu?"

"You guys aren't from 'round here." The barman said, stating the obvious as he pushed the two pints across to Spike and Xander, offering his hand. "Name's Mark. I'm in charge here. You guys here for the convention? We don't usually get convention folk wandering in here. They tend to stick to the event bars."

Xander lifted his pint and, taking a long swig from it, studied the menu.

Spike took the offered hand and shook firmly. "We're not here for the convention." he replied, peering over Xander's shoulder. "I'm Will, and this here is my mate, Xander." 

Xander looked up from the list, shaking Mark's outstretched hand.

"So what brings you to these parts then, gentlemen?" Mark asked, moving along the bar to serve more customers as he spoke. The bar itself wasn't particularly busy but the tables around the room were filled with groups drinking and eating.

Xander glanced at Spike, waiting to see if he chose to answer. He didn't have to wait long.

"Just passin' through." Spike shrugged, pulling the menu from Xander's hands and dropping his gaze to look over the offerings. "Two lots of steak 'n' fries, I reckon. Yeah, Xan?"

"One medium, one rare." Xander nodded as Spike pushed the menu card back across the bar to Mark who stuck his head through a hatch and shouted something before coming back to serve at the bar again. Xander turned towards the room, looking for an empty table. He found two - both booths situated towards the back of the bar.

"We'll be over there." he mouthed to Mark, nodding towards an empty booth near the back window. Mark raised a hand in acknowledgement, and both Spike and Xander wandered over to the booth, sliding themselves into the plush red velour bench seat.

"Cosy." Spike quipped, as he knocked elbows with Xander.

"Kinda busy, isn't it... Will?" Xander raised an eyebrow at the vampire who was deliberately avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah, well. Had to come up with something, eh? That Mark seems like a sound guy, and we might be able to get something from him if we're friendly enough." Spike drew on his pint, downing half of it in one go.

"Don't worry, Xan." Spike reassured, noticing Xander's reaction, "Vampires don't really get drunk." He leant over, whispering into Xander's ear. "Feel free to go ahead yourself though." Spike winked, eliciting a bark of laughter from Xander who promptly clamped a hand over his mouth.

"If I don't eat something soon, I'll be drunk on this pint alone." he replied, taking another long drink with an elbow dig at the vampire.

"So, see anyone of interest?"

Spike surveyed the tables of customers - men and women, some eating, some drinking, most chatting and laughing comfortably amongst themselves.

"Well," Spike started, "that guy over there seems to be eyeing you up."

"What, me? You're kidding?" Xander looked in the direction in which Spike was indicating, his face failing to hide mild shock and panic as he grasped Spike's arm. "Where? Who?"

"You're so easy, mate." Spike laughed openly, draining his pint. "But seriously though, why wouldn't somebody be interested? Look at you!"

Xander's lingering hand on his arm had more than a mild effect on the vampire. The point of contact felt intense and its effect went straight to Spike's groin. He shook off the feeling, reluctantly.

"Shit, sorry." Xander realised he was still attached to Spike's arm and snatched back the hand, as if burned. "I just... sorry." He mumbled into his pint glass, emptying the last half in one long gulp, and the two sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes.

"Two steak and fries." A slim waitress with long dark hair appeared, holding two plates, "One medium, one rare?"

"Medium here." Xander responded, hand raised and almost grateful for the distraction. "Thanks."

"No worries." the girl responded, putting the plates in front of the two men. "Can I get you guys another drink?" She pulled an order pad from her pocket and slipped a pen from behind her ear.

"Sure thing, doll." Spike winked. "Two more pints and two double JDs."

She nodded, returning the wink and, after scribbling the order on her pad, slid the pen back behind her ear and took the two empty glasses.

"You fellas enjoy your meal." 

She spun on her heels and wandered across to the bar, leaning over to Mark and whispering something to him as their eyes glanced briefly across to the booth where Spike and Xander were sitting.

"Reckon she fancies you, Will." Xander giggled, placing deliberate emphasis on Spike's rarely-used name. "Maybe you can get your information from her instead."

Spike looked up at the girl. She was pretty enough. Her long dark hair was was tied back loosely, emphasising her pale features, but she didn't really do anything for Spike.

"Maybe." he mumbled, cutting into the rare steak. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

They ate in relative silence, stopping only to occasionally cast their eyes about the room, watching the comings and goings of other people who they presumed to be locals. Everybody seemed to know everybody and Xander wasn't sure if that was a good thing or bad.

As he pushed his empty plate away, he took a drink and sat against the velvet bench seat's back.

"Do you think you'd recognise her if she came in?"

Spike finished his last mouthful of fries and took a drink of his beer before answering.

"Reckon so." he nodded. "I have a pretty good memory for faces. Presuming the images Giles sent over were accurate. I mean, it's not as if she'll have aged since."

Xander hmmed. It was something he'd considered.

"See anybody suspicious in here then? Anyone not human?"

Spike discreetly scanned the room, paying more attention than he had previously and extending his preternatural senses.

"Guy at the bar. Jeans, red check shirt and brown cap. Vampire. Real one, I mean. Girl with him doesn't know. Mark does. Dunno what that means."

Xander swore under his breath.

"Girl over by the door. Short denim skirt and white shirt. She's something. Part-wolf, maybe. Not sure, but there's something about her." 

Spike necked his JD with one flick back of the head, "This place is certainly interesting."

"Fuck." Xander cursed again, downing his own whiskey similarly. 

Bordensville was turning out to be no better than Sunnydale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special bonus chapter for you (if anybody is reading lol) to make up for my shocking lack of posting over the holiday season.  
> I'm home now, so I should be back to routine next week.  
> Hope y'all had a great Christmas and New Year.  
> Here's to a Span-tastic 2014!


	37. Chapter 37

"Lie back down, will you?!" Andrew approached Angel, grabbing his arm and attempting to steer him back to the sofa again. "You're not healing, Angel. You shouldn't be walking around."

"I'm NOT an invalid, BOY." Angel shucked off Andrew's touch, turning and scowling at him, keeping the demon at bay but just barely.

Andrew rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh.

"Angel." he said calmly, pretending to ignore the irritated vampire who was now following him into the kitchen and had reached for a blood bag from the fridge. "Let me warm it for you. Please?"

Angel dropped himself onto one of the kitchen chairs with a groan.

Andrew was fed up of not feeling useful. Xander and Spike had gone off on their road trip to find Melandra and save Angel, and Andrew was left back at base playing nurse maid. He was tired, he was bored, and Angel was a nightmare of a patient.

"Don't even think about it." Andrew warned, noticing Angel about to stand when the microwave dinged. Angel sank back down into the chair again, not taking his eyes off Andrew as he opened the warmed bag and emptied it into a mug.

"You don't have to do this, you know." The vampire turned away and drained the mug, only turning back to his friend when his face had slipped back into its human guise.

Andrew poured himself a lukewarm coffee from the pot and lowered himself into the chair opposite.

"I know." he replied quietly. "But I need to do something here, Angel. I'm going crazy."

Angel hmmed, leaning across the table towards Andrew.

"We need to call staff... tell them not to come in tomorrow. We'll have to keep the building closed for a few days, just tell them... tell them anything. Carmen is back from vacation. She'll understand."

Angel was suddenly thankful that Grace, the temp who had been working the previous week, would no longer be there. Carmen had been with him since they'd moved into the current offices, and she was unfazed by the comings and goings of the strange folk that tended to wander in and out of AI on a daily basis. Grace, however, hadn't been so unaffected, and it'd have been far more difficult to explain away the current situation to her than to Carmen.

"I'll do that." Andrew replied, replacing his now empty coffee mug on the table. "I'll call Carmen and ask her to let Greg on reception know too."

He looked closely at Angel. The vampire looked pale and tired.

"You really should rest, you know. Let me heat you another, and I'll go make some calls."

Andrew stood up and, after heating and decanting a second bag of blood, turned and headed out of the kitchen. Maybe he'd give Xander a call while he was in the office. He hadn't heard from him since the brief "We've arrived" message he'd gotten when the pair had checked into the motel.

He quickly called Carmen and gave a quick explanation of events. She agreed to call Greg and that neither would come in until Andrew called them again to let them know all was OK. 

The current arrangements at AI were basic. After the Fall, the Powers That Be, or what was left of them, had set Angel and Spike up in their backup location. When Andrew had arrived not long after, he remembered being slight freaked out at the similarities between the new, much smaller building, and the old Wolfram & Hart place. Angel said that all of their buildings were deliberately designed to look and feel the same to make it easier to transition between locations, for both employees and clients. It wasn't identical, of course, having a much smaller business area and also containing the living quarters in close proximity. It was all about maintaining a presence. It was a much smaller presence, however, with only Angel and Andrew (and occasionally, when he felt like it, Spike) working cases, Carmen acting as PA and secretary and Greg being first line of defence on reception. 

Business had been slow but steady since Andrew had arrived, with cases being more akin to the earlier days of Angel Investigations and "We help the helpless" to the big names and cases of Wolfram and Hart. The PTB had passed on the building to AI but little else. No one contacted them, no one imposed any conditions and they'd been free to do their own thing. It was an uncomfortable position to be in, but they'd had little choice in the matter. It was this or nothing, and Angel had already lost enough.

He picked up his cellphone and brought up the number for Xander.

"Hmmm?" Xander's phone manner was lacking, and Andrew could hear a considerable amount of background noise.

"Xander? Where on earth are you?"

"Mojo's." Xander replied. "Ummm, a bar."

"You're supposed to be finding Melandra." Andrew felt his impatience grow. Angel's life, or his unlife, was in imminent danger, and Spike and Xander were out at a bar?

"Jees, 'drew." Xander slurred a little, clearly suffering more from the alcohol than he'd realised, "Chill out. We just came in to eat and do some asking around."

"And?" Andrew bit back his instinct to complain that getting drunk wasn't helpful, instead encouraging Xander to continue.

"D'know." Xander mumbled. "Spike's already seen another vamp... 'n' smthing else... 'n' did you know there's some convention going on here? Somethin' to do with the supernatural. There's folk dressed up as all sorts in this town."

"Right, well let us know how you get on, yeah. Keep us posted." Andrew sighed and hung up the call with a harder-than-necessary press on the end button.

Great. That's all they needed. They were hunting for a vampire amongst other vampires and wannabe vampires.  
Could things really get any worse?

Andrew turned and exited the office, heading past the living space, through the open hall and back towards the kitchen.  
As he opened the kitchen door to find Angel lying on the floor and somebody standing over him, he discovered that things could indeed get worse. 

Much, much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to stress a bit now because the chapters I've published are starting to catch up the ones I've written quicker than I can write more!
> 
> That said, now that I'm back from the UK and the kids are back in school, normality and routine can recommence so I think I'll get back into my flow soon enough.
> 
> I think though, until I've written some more and found my mojo again, I'll keep updates at once a week for now. Mondays, I think.
> 
> Hope that's OK?


	38. Chapter 38

"You know, if you keep drinking like that, you'll be no good to anyone."

Xander rolled his eyes as Spike's words drifted into one ear and out of the other. Who was some undead, souled and supposedly-reformed vampire to tell Alexander Harris how to live his life?  
He knocked back another shot at the bar and signalled again to Mark for a refill.

"Seriously, Xan. I don't think..."

"What?" Xander slammed a balled-up fist against the hardwood surface of the bar. "Seriously. What, Spike?"

Spike clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to draw any more attention to themselves than Xander's outburst already had.

Mark reappeared with two more shots, and Spike have him a raised eyebrow in return.

"I think it's time you boys left."

Xander downed the refill and leant across the bar towards Mark.

"Dn tell me watta do." His hand waved erratically at the bartender, who in turn looked questioningly to Spike.

"Will?"

Spike sighed. Seemed like their evening was over then. He didn't want to make a scene that would raise too much suspicion amongst the locals. Maybe he should have known better than to bring somebody with an alcohol problem to a bar.

"I'll take him back to the motel." Spike nodded, batting Xander's hand away from his own refill and downing it quickly. "Might see you folks tomorrow, yeah? Now that we are here, I'd kinda like to check out this whole convention scene."

Spike hoped that his quickly thought-out excuse for staying on would wash with Mark. His 'just passing through' comment had come back to haunt him now that he became apparent that Melandra would be more difficult to find than they had first thought. 

"Sure thing, Will." Mark winked at the vampire, and Spike ignored it in favour of grabbing his inebriated friend's arm.

"C'mon, Xan." he said calmly, "Let's get back and sober you up a bit before bed."

Xander stood slowly. His head spun as the altitude at nearly 6 feet felt more like 6000. He followed Spike's lead, barely even noticing the vampire's hand on his arm.

"Bed good." Xander could barely string together a sentence, and Spike decided it would be better to keep a hold of his friend's arm, despite the odd looks from a couple who came into the bar as the pair exited.

"Gnna tuck me in, Spikey?"

Spike cast his eyes around, seeing if anybody had heard before ushering Xander outside and into the soberingly cooler night air.

"You trying to get us busted, mate?"

As soon as they were out of view, Spike dropped Xander's arm, grabbing a smoke from his duster pocket and lighting it up as if he'd gone days without one.

"Keep drinking and mouthing off like that, and we'll never find the bitch."

Much as Spike had been enjoying the boy's company, Xander's current state was less than conducive to finding Melandra and that realisation bothered him greatly.

Xander swayed and fell against the wall, not quite giggling but emitting a noise that sounded something like it. 

"Wassup, Spikey?" he asked, letting his head rest against cold bricks for a moment as the blackness of the darkened streets spun around him and the neon sign flickered and laughed at him. "Can't handle your liquor?"

"Ain't me, buddy." Spike sounded pissed, and Xander wondered what he'd done to annoy the vampire. "You're the one whose mouth is gonna get us into trouble."

"Mmmmm... mouth..."

Xander became vaguely aware of somebody - Spike, he presumed - taking hold of his arm again and leading him a short distance until they entered a dull-looking motel reception area.

"OK if we take the indoor route again?" He heard Spike ask the clerk. The guy replied with a silent wave of the hand, barely looking up from his laptop as the two passed by. 

The internal door swung closed behind them and a lightbulb flickered into life as it registered their movement.

"Reckon he was looking at porn."

Spike's steps faltered momentarily at Xander's statement before he pulled him into their room.

"He was, y'know."

Spike nipped to the bathroom, filling a large glass with water and handing it to Xander who was bouncing his backside on the bed like a child.

"Sure he was, Xan." he said, passing across the glass and watching patiently as Xander necked the whole thing and held it back out to Spike when empty. The boy would have one hell of a headache in the morning if he didn't drink more, so Spike obligingly refilled and handed it back again.

"Better?"

Xander placed the empty beaker onto the side table, taking several attempts to get it fully seated before he himself flopped backwards on the bed with a long groan.

Spike stood, heading towards the door and flicking the light off.

"Spike?"

Xander suddenly sounded more in control; more sober; more... normal

"Mmmm?" Spike's response was non-committal. Not wanting to appear too interested but keeping Xander's attention lest he suddenly fall into some alcohol-induced sleep.

"Spike?" Xander repeated, turning his head to the direction in which he thought the vampire was heading. 

"Xander."

"Spikey." The pet name returned, eliciting an unseen wince from the vampire, "Lie with me?"

Spike stopped mid-stride. He'd been heading back to his own bed when Xander's plea had come, and now he stood faltering between beds, unsure what to do,

"Xander?"

Spike wanted the boy to repeat the request. He wanted to hear it again. In truth, he wanted to hear it from a more sober Xander but, if drunk Xander asked again...

"Lie with me?" There was more hesitance in Xander's voice. As if he realised he as crossing some sort of unspoken boundary.

Spike chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, wrestling with his own conscience. Could he? SHOULD he? Xander was undeniably drunk. Wouldn't it be taking advantage?

"Spike, please?"

Maybe. Just maybe. 

Maybe just this once it would be OK.


	39. Chapter 39

"DON'T come any closer!"

Andrew froze, barely breathing as he stared at the sight of Angel crumpled on the floor. He was so still; completely motionless. He looked...

"Angel?"

"Your vampire isn't dead." The man spoke with venom in his voice, almost spitting out the word 'vampire', so laced with hatred. "Obviously."

He wasn't dust, so of course Angel was alive. But he didn't look good, and it wouldn't take much, in his current state, to cause a fatal injury.  
Andrew forced himself to look at their assailant and swallowed hard as he registered the handgun extended towards him.

"Sit." The order was accompanied with a flick of the gun towards the table, and Andrew complied instantly, dropping onto the kitchen chair and momentarily closing his eyes in an attempt to bring his breathing under control. Panic would not help right now.

"You, vampire! Up!" The gun lowered, levelling at Angel's torso.

Angel groaned, a sound that fractionally comforted Andrew, and rolled his head towards the man.

"He can't move in his condition. He's too hurt."

The words left Andrew's mouth before he had a chance to stop them. 

"He's injured."

The man stifled a noise that sounded something like a growl. 

"I KNOW he is injured." he spat, kicking at the vampire on the ground just as he was trying to raise himself up. "He got INJURED murdering my best mate."

Something akin to recognition registered on Andrew's face as he realised this must be one of the two men who had been outside the warehouse. He hadn't really made the connection between the person on the video and the person stood before him until now. He looked... different; angrier.

"Yes. Remember me, vampire?" he asked, hesitantly crouching down alongside Angel and, without touching him, giving him the once over.

"Marcus." The introduction was flat, as if he begrudged giving it at all. "You murdered my friend in that place." Marcus began nodding. "First you murdered his pregnant wife, then you murdered him."

"That wasn't..." Andrew winced as the gun swung upwards to his direction again. "It wasn't Angel who did that." He cringed again, realising how it sounded. "I mean, it was Angelus who killed... who killed those other people."

Marcus stood swiftly, ignoring the vampire in favour of approaching the table and standing opposite where Andrew was sitting, his hands wringing themselves as he fought to control the rising hysteria.

"You think that makes a difference, do you?" Marcus' voice was far calmer than his body language was letting on, and the quiet control of his words did nothing to allay Andrew's panic.

"He's..." Andrew paused a second, letting out a long exhale of air, "... he's different now."

Marcus' face reddened as he pulled out the second chair. Andrew thought, for a moment, that he was going to sit on it, but instead, Marcus swung round, grabbing Angel by the arm and dragging him up and onto the chair opposite Andrew.  
Angel groaned loudly, and Andrew noticed the darkening patch on his shirt. The wound coverings needed replacing. Angel's blood supply needed replacing.

"Leave him."

Marcus growled as Andrew leaned over the table towards the ailing vampire. He turned towards the sink and braced his hands on the worktop, steadying himself.

"Look." Andrew held his hands up, hoping to placate the agitated man, "I don't know what you want from him... from us... but, if you don't let me tend to his wounds and at least get some blood into him, he's going to dust... here."

Marcus turned around to look again at Angel, and Andrew wished for a moment that he hadn't spoken. That he hadn't asked. That he hadn't pushed Marcus into perhaps stepping up to his endgame.

"He's that bad?"

Andrew forced down the outburst that threatened to emerge. _Of course, he's that bad. He's dying._ He wanted to scream and shout at the ignorance of the man, only the small signs of hesitation on the man's face convincing him not to.

"He IS dying." Andrew hoped he could get through to Marcus. Hoped that it wasn't the man's plan all along to just kill Angel and that this would be it.

"See to him."

Marcus pulled out a third chair and dragged it across the kitchen, placing it near the doorway where he could watch his captives securely.

Andrew flung himself out of his own chair and rounded the table to Angel. Carefully, he undid the few closed buttons on the shirt and grimaced as he slowly pulled the soaked bandages from Angel's torso. As the wounds became exposed, Angel's eyes flew open and the vampire let out a low hiss as his eyes rimmed with gold.   
Andrew glanced around to look at Marcus, but the man's attention was elsewhere, fiddling anxiously with his cellphone.  
Andrew crossed the kitchen and reached up to open a cupboard.

"Slowly!" Marcus warned, clearly unnerved.

Andrew nodded and cautiously pulled down a fresh bandage roll, some tape and a clean towel, which he soaked under the tap before returning to Angel's side. 

"Here. Hold this." He whispered, pressing the damp towel to the vampire's body as he unfolded a fresh bandage.

"I need to heat him something to... eat." Andrew was unsure how to phrase it as he looked across at Marcus, silently pleading to be able to give Angel some chance of survival.  
Marcus waved the gun at him dismissively.

"Do it."

Andrew squeezed Angel's arm gently and walked over to the fridge, removing a blood pouch and warming it in the microwave before bringing it back to the table. He gently removed the cloth and, cleaning off the area, fixed a fresh bandage in place. Only then did he move Angel's hands to the mug, wrapping the docile vampire's fingers around it.

"Drink, Angel. Please." His voice was quiet; pleading; desperate, and he couldn't help noticing Marcus' stare as Angel began to drink and, after throwing the old bandages and dirty cloths into the sink, Andrew returned to his seat.

"You really care for this... demon. This monster." It wasn't a question, but Marcus seemed genuinely surprised, even as he sat there, gun in his lap and look of pure contempt on his face.

Andrew paused, taking a moment to consider the answer least likely to aggravate their aggressor. After a minute or so, he looked from Angel to Marcus and nodded.

"He's my friend."

Marcus appeared to be considering that. The frown on his face made it seem like he could barely understand how anybody, particularly a human, could possibly be friends with a vampire.

"I know Angelus did bad things. I mean... Angelus did a lot of terrible things, but this..." Andrew paused, his eyes meeting briefly with Angel's. The vampire was struggling to keep his open but he was studying Andrew as he spoke. "... Angel is different. He's not Angelus... he's not HIM any more."

Andrew turned away from their captor, and Marcus was quiet as Angel dropped his head onto his hands, folded on the table. He turned his cellphone over and over in his hands, periodically studying it, as if he was waiting for something.

A moment later, the screen flashed into life with an incoming text message.

_I'll be there in 10 - Bella_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being a day late with this.  
> My husband is away so I'm doing his work too (we run our own business), my teenager is sick and off school, and we have a houseguest coming tomorrow (hubby is bringing his mother back with him) so I'm frantically sorting rooms and bedrooms etc.
> 
> So anyways, sorry for the tardiness


	40. Chapter 40

Xander groaned as he tried to roll over in the undersized motel room bed. He'd only managed to half-shift his shoulders before he encountered something.  
No, wait. Some _ONE_.

He cracked open his eye and turned his head the rest of the way towards the stranger in his bed.

"What the...? Spike?!"

The vampire moaned himself and stretched before shuffling himself round to face his bemused bedfellow.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

"Spike?"

"Think we established that, pet." Spike chuckled and pushed himself up onto his elbows. Unlike Xander, he had been sober when they'd arrived back at the motel so he wasn't surprised to wake up next to the boy. Not as disturbed as Xander clearly seemed to be waking next to Spike.

"Spike?" The vampire raised an eyebrow at Xander's further repetition. "What are you doing in my bed?"

Spike swung around and curled one leg underneath him, facing Xander.

"You don't remember?"

Xander frowned. He remembered being at Mojo's. He remembered food and beer and Jack Daniels and people, lots of people. And demons. His frown deepened as he remembered staggering back to the motel... and then nothing.

After what seemed like long hours, he shook his head in response.

Spike hmm-ed. This could be interesting. The boy couldn't remember.

"What do you remember?"

Xander pushed himself up to sitting against the wall. "I remember Mojo's. We ate, we drank..." he crinkled his nose as he remembered how much, "... we saw demons. Spike? Did we really see demons at Mojo's?"

Spike nodded. "That we did, pet. Turns out Bordensville is some kinda place."

"I remember leaving the bar, and I think I remember walking home..."

"You _could_ call it walking." Spike laughed, remembering clearly how he had more than helped Xander shuffle the short distance between Mojo's and the motel.

"But I don't remember coming to bed. Spike, did you put me to bed?"

Xander suddenly became acutely aware that he was wearing only his underpants. He pulled on the comforter making Spike lose his balance.

"Spike, did you undress me?!"

The look of horror on Xander's face elicited a loud bark of laughter from the vampire, laughter which just increased in intensity as Xander's train of thought clearly continued to run away with him.

"You were in my bed. Why were you in my bed?"

Only then did Xander realise that Spike was fully clothed.

"Oh."

"You done, pet?" Spike had brought the laughter under control and was now sitting with one hand against his aching ribs.

"So... we didn't...?"

Spike was tempted, he really was. He was tempted to say all sorts of things about how Xander had begged for him to join him, begged for him to hold him and kiss him and...

Well, temptation is a bitch, but it wasn't the way Spike really wanted to get started on a new friendship with Xander Harris.  
Oh no, he had bigger, longer-term plans.

"You were drunk. You asked me to lie with you. I lay with you. You got undressed at some point during the night... probably didn't even notice I was here, if you were still pissed as a fart."

"Oh."

Spike could swear that Xander looked almost... disappointed. What had he expected?

"You OK?" Spike stood and walked over to the mini-fridge. "Want anything? For the hangover, I mean?"

Xander thought about that for a moment. He actually didn't feel hungover. In fact, aside from a small portion of missing memory, he felt surprisingly fine. He watched Spike pull out a blood bag and microwave it, tapping his fingers on the dresser as the seconds passed.

"I'm fine. I'll grab a coffee when we go out later." He pulled himself up and headed to the bathroom.

"You." Spike pulled the mug from the microwave and sat on his bed to drink it.

"Me what?" Xander turned back to the room, habitually averting his eyes as the vamped-out vampire drank. It always felt like an intrusion- watching him drink. He glanced up briefly to find gold-rimmed eyes staring at him.

"When YOU go out." Spike indicated towards the ceiling. Xander followed Spike's gaze before lowering his head again and frowning at the vampire.   
Spike smiled. The boy looked adorable when he frowned. That confused look on his face made Spike want to do unspeakable things to him. He sighed, both at Xander's ignorance and at his own frustration.

"Daylight?" Spike waited for the realisation to sink in. Xander wasn't his brightest first thing in the morning, Spike remembered that now.

"Right." Xander shook his head at his own stupidity. It'd been a long time since he'd had to really consider the nocturnal nature of a vampire. "Right. Well, I'll get cleaned up and head out for a bit then. Maybe see what's going off at this convention. Let you do your... whatever it is you do during the daytime, and we can get out again later?"

He wondered at the wisdom of pairing up with somebody who could only work nights. Maybe he needed to adopt Spike's working hours so they could get more done together.

"I won't be out long. I'll check out the convention and then come back here again. I'll bring lunch!" He became animated at the idea of being able to bring food back for the pair. "Maybe some bagels and donuts. Those little ones with the white frosting and sprinkles..."

"Steady on there, Mum." Spike joked, grabbing a clean t shirt from the duffle and pulling off the one he was wearing. Deliberately ignoring the feeling of Xander watching him, he slipped on the clean tee and pulled a shirt over it.

"Just be back by 2." The vampire looked directly at Xander, noticing the boy swallow hard. "We don't know what sort of people are going to be at this convention and, given what we've seen already in this town, there's a good chance there'll be real demons there."

"Right. Yes. Hiding in plain sight. I remember." Xander muttered and shook himself to clear his head, reaching for the bathroom door and pulling it closed behind him again. 

Since when did Spike get so... he wrestled with his thoughts. He'd woken next to Spike and experienced a myriad of emotions, from shock and horror to anticipation and disappointment. He wasn't even sure what he'd expected. 

And Spike, he was being so... so something. Alluring. Mysterious. Goddamn sexy.

Xander had no idea if the vampire was doing it deliberately, but he had a faint, optimistic feeling that Spike was.   
What did that mean? Did Spike want him?

Shit, where did that thought come from?   
_Did_ Spike want him?

And at that moment, leaning against the bathroom door in some seedy motel, in an even seedier town, in the middle of nowhere, Xander realised that he really, really hoped that Spike did.


	41. Chapter 41

Andrew turned his head from its position resting on his arms on the table. Marcus hadn't said anything for several minutes, and Angel seemed to be sleeping in the chair opposite. He wondered what Marcus had planned for them both, and suddenly realised how much he really wanted Spike and Xander to come rolling on in right now.

Andrew watched Marcus tap something into his phone again before the man stood and looked sharply at him.

"Stay there." he barked, crossing to the kitchen door, "You move and he dies." Marcus gestured to the sleeping vampire and exited the doorway, giving Andrew a few unobserved moments to check Angel over. He rested a hand on Angel's arm, feeling the faint warmth of borrowed blood in his system. He hoped that, with the top-up of fresh blood, the vampire had slipped back into a healing sleep. It was probably the best place for him to be right now.

As the door clicked open again behind him, Andrew was startled from his observations. He turned to see Marcus re-enter the kitchen and watched as the man held the door open. He realised there was a second set of footsteps approaching. Someone was following. Seconds later, a familiar face appeared.

"I believe you have met my associate, Bella?"

Andrew swung around the rest of the way to face the pair in the doorway, his breathing quickening and his mouth agape.

"You?"

He should have known. He should have been wary of the attractive half-witch when she approached them at Archie's. They'd been lured in by her hypnotic beauty. He cursed himself for allowing her to lead them to the warehouse and gave thanks again that they had all gotten out alive, even injured as they had been.

Bella drifted over to the table and stood alongside.

"He doesn't look good, does he? Your vampire." She leant over, lifting Angel's head and screwing her eyes up slightly as if trying to read him. "He won't be waking any time soon." Directing the last comment to Marcus, she lowered Angel's head down again and turned back to Andrew.

"I'm sorry, sweet thing." Her voice purred melodiously. It should have been enchanting, but Andrew was too frustrated to feel anything approaching enchanted. "I'm sure he'll recover... if fate wills it." She glided away from the table and over to Marcus, who stood, allowing the half-witch to sit.

"The thing is, these vampires, these monsters..." the way Bella said the word gave Andrew a unexpected feeling of panic. He swallowed hard, trying to force down the feeling of rising hysteria inside him again, "... these demons should not be allowed to exist peacefully among us. They are murderers."

The sudden change in Bella's tone could be felt in the entire room. It lay thick and heavy, like a wool blanket in the air, holding Andrew down as if it were a real, physical presence. Her eyes closed for a moment, and when they reopened, she looked straight at Andrew, peering almost into his soul.

"I can see you replaying our meeting over and over, boy." she said calmly, pulling a small gemstone from her pocket and turning it in her long fingers. "You didn't miss anything. That was the point: for you to trust me implicitly. For you all to be there at the warehouse. Unfortunately..." she cast a glance across at Marcus who was deliberately avoiding her gaze, "... all didn't go to plan. We were not originally expecting there to be another human..." 

Xander. She meant Xander. They hadn't been expecting him. He hadn't been part of their original plan. 

"We couldn't not abort once we had started, however, and your friend was rather more efficient than could have anticipated."

Xander had been the key to all this. To saving them from what should have been a carefully orchestrated attack on Spike, Angel and Andrew.

"But..." Andrew couldn't quite get his thoughts straight. This was so much to take in. Like nothing they could ever have expected or imagined. "... But why? Why us? Why... all of us?"

"Jess was a close friend of mine." Bella paused, waiting to see whether that meant anything to the human sitting at the table. The resulting silence and lack of recognition only served to frustrate her further. 

"Jess was Avery's daughter." she continued, the nod that Andrew then gave showing that he had deduced Avery to be the other man from the video and the warehouse. "Your other vampire..." she gestured to the sleeping form, even though it was clear she was referring to Spike. Andrew couldn't help the involuntary shudder or the small wave of relief that swept over him as he realised that her personal grievance wasn't with the vampire in the room. "...Spike... he attacked her. Cold-bloodedly turned her into a monster. A monster that Avery then had to..."

She tailed off, clearly struggling to put the story into words, but Andrew could feel it anyway; could almost see it.   
His heart rate elevated as visions swam through his mind. 

Memories of people and places long past.   
Not his own memories, but replays, glimpses of Bella's. 

He had no idea how she was doing it, but he became acutely aware of the sensation of being there, standing in a side street, rain pouring, as a young female vampire approached an older man. The man didn't look afraid though. He didn't run or shout. He just looked angry and resolute. 

Then he became aware of Bella, standing behind the vampire in the alley, and suddenly he realised that he was seeing through her eyes.   
Watching the man as he plunged the stake through the young vampire girl's chest.   
Watching as the young girl vanished into dust, leaving him staring straight into the eyes of the father who had just staked his only daughter.

He jumped in the chair as the memory ended as unexpectedly as it had started, and raised his head, his eyes meeting with Bella's.

"I'm so sorry." he whispered, a sole tear escaping as he came down from the intense feelings that the rogue memory had caused him. "But Spike... that wasn't... I mean..." he took a deep breath, a vain attempt to compose himself, "...that's not who he is now."

Bella didn't speak for what seemed like several minutes. Her head was dropped low and her breathing was hard. Andrew became aware of the air in the room clearing, like a weight had been lifted. He watched Bella lift her head and nod, as if she had come to some great revelation.

"You are as bad as them." 

When she finally responded, her words were pointed and accusatory.

"This is why you all need to be punished.


	42. Chapter 42

"I'll be back by 2." Xander threw over his shoulder as he headed out of the motel room and into the small porch that led to the parking lot. It was the first time they'd used the outside door, and Xander felt slightly disoriented when he found himself outside.

He stopped for a second, trying to get his bearings and quickly spotted a group of people in costume. Two witches, a werewolf, some kind of green demon with red horns and a vampire. He headed towards them, figuring they would be going to the convention and he could tag along with them.

As he got closer to the group, Xander stifled the urge to laugh openly at the vampire whose tanned arms made a mockery of his painted white face. Instead, he picked up his pace, quickly catching them up and falling in step.

"Hey." he addressed the vampire who had observed him approaching. "You guys heading to the con?"

The vampire chuckled and one of the witches turned to Xander.

"Well, we certainly don't dress like this every day." She winked at him and the group around her slowed to a stop. The witches smiled and the werewolf appeared in front of Xander, clearly having nominated himself as pack leader, something which Xander noted with interest.

"Jacob." he said, extending a hand and grabbing Xander's in a firm handshake. "This here is Dracula, Glinda, Elphaba and Lorne." He indicated to his friends in turn. "Obviously, that's not their real names." he whispered with a chuckle.

"I'm Xander." Xander replied, looking from witches to demons, "Mind if I tag along with you?"

"You don't have a costume?" Glinda asked, looking him up and down as if one would miraculously develop in front of her eyes.

"Figured I'm scary enough." Xander quipped, falling back into step as the group began walking again, light banter and chatter continuing until they arrived a tall gothic-looking building. There was a large banner hanging outside indicating that they'd arrived at their destination.

As they approached the large doorway, more people began to gather and Xander found himself conspicuously under-dressed. He laughed inwardly at the ridiculousness of the feeling given that, even Spike himself would have looked equally under-dressed had he been there.

They joined a line at the entrance, and Lorne sidled discreetly up to Xander, his eyes slitted as though he were studying him.

"Where are you from, my friend?" Lorne asked, his voice hushed so the surrounding crowd could not overhear.

Xander looked up at the green demon. His make up was impressive. The green colour of his flesh had been expertly done, covering all skin that Xander could see, and the small red horns, protruding from the top of his forehead, almost looked real. He wondered how the guy had managed to make his eyes look red like that.

"L.A." Xander eventually answered. "Well, Sunnydale originally. Been all over since then, I suppose, but L.A now."

Lorne had been about to take a step as the line moved forwards but stopped and looked suspiciously at Xander. He visibly took a moment to compose himself before he took the step and turned back to the line.

"What about you guys?" Xander asked the group, trying to break through the strangeness that suddenly hung between them. "You all friends? Where are you from?"

Lorne either didn't hear or chose to ignore the question, and Elphaba took a step back next to Xander.

"Glinda, Jacob and me, we live here in town. Dracula and Lorne are from Mainstone nearby. Did I hear you say you're here from L.A? For the Con?"

"Yeh. Well, we're not exactly here for the Con." Xander shrugged, wondering briefly how Spike was doing back at the motel, "Just kinda happened to be passing through."

"We?" Glinda asked, looking around her as if Xander's mystery friend or friends would appear. Xander groaned, realising that he'd let that one slip.

"We. Yeah. My friend, Spi... Will. He's back at our motel. He drank a bit too much last night, and he's still sleeping it off."

He congratulated himself on his own quick thinking, taking another step closer to the front of the line and hoping that the remaining 3 people in front would be quick enough that he wouldn't have to weave too much of an elaborate web of lies.

"Well, you'll have to make sure he comes with you tonight then. You are coming to the main event later?" She pushed a brochure into his hand, conveniently turned to the centre pages where a vibrant advertisement promised "live music and excitement".

"Sure." Xander answered, finally getting to the front of the line alongside Glinda. The witch flashed her pass at one of the guys, who waved her in.

"See you inside then." She winked at Xander as she slipped through the doorway, leaving him standing in front of the desk with Lorne.

"Three two-day passes." Lorne smiled at the guy, pushing a handful of notes across the table. The guy handed back 3 laminated cards attached to black lanyards. Lorne turned around to Xander, passing him two of the cards as he hung his own around his neck.

"Here." he said, his voice lowered again and sounding more than a little anxious, "One for you and one for Spike."


	43. Chapter 43

Andrew's head spun as he attempted to lift it from the table. The kitchen table, he noted. They were still in the kitchen.

Angel!

He groaned at the throbbing in his temples and raised his head further to check on his friend. Angel was sitting up in his chair, awake although not looking good.

Andrew turned to see Marcus standing near the sink, drinking a large coffee.

"Welcome back."

Bella's voice didn't sound as welcoming as her words implied, and in an instant, everything came back to Andrew, flooding his mind with memories and emotions. He bit back the urge to whimper, instead turning to face Bella.

"What are you going to do?"

The question sounded stupid even as he spoke it. He sounded like some lost little boy, like Sunnydale Andrew, the part of him he had though was long left behind.  
Bella stood and walked across to the table, planting her hands firmly on it.

"Where are the others?"

Andrew frowned and glanced at Angel, who had opened his eyes and was looking straight back at him. He tried to read the vampire's expression, searching for guidance.

"Where. Are. The. Others?"

The accompanying bang of fists on the table made Andrew jump, and he wrestled with his own thoughts, trying to think of what to say.

"They just took a trip. Took a break."

Bella looked in disbelief, first at Andrew and then at Angel. Marcus approached the table, shaking his head.

"Not likely." he said, his face deadpan and expressionless. "The vampire will still be badly injured."

Bella took his arm and led him to the other side of the kitchen.

"I don't believe they would have just left this one either. Not in this condition." Her voice was hushed, so Andrew couldn't make out what she was saying. Angel might have, had he been in peak health.  
Marcus nodded, turning them further so they're backs were to the pair at the table.

"The other one. He'll be suffering. His injuries were..." he paused, glancing back briefly at the table, "...severe. Maybe he was taken to get help? Can't you... I dunno... read him?" Marcus tipped his head towards Andrew. "Or the vampire?"

"I tried." Bella let out a long sigh. "I'm not seeing anything. His mind is... closed. I managed to project, but there's something blocking me from seeing. Some sort of magic, maybe."

She frowned and turned back to the table, extending her mind as best she could. She could see their minds easily enough, both Angel's and Andrew's, but she couldn't see inside. There was some sort of barrier there stopping her from getting through. It hadn't been there before, when she had met Andrew at Archie's. There he had been easy to read, like an open picture book. Now, she could see the book but it was locked firmly shut. Only a powerful witch could have done this.

"Who's the witch?"

Andrew tried to hide his surprise, but the opening of Angel's eyes were a give-away as Bella took a step towards the table again.

"So I was right." She sighed, pulling the other chair over from the doorway towards the table and sitting down, ignoring Marcus' questioning look as she did so.

"Who?" Her voice was calm and controlled but no less insistent.

She looked from Andrew to Angel, trying to weigh up the easier option. Whose mind might give way first? Human or damaged vampire?   
As she studied Angel, she decided that the weakened vampire was a softer target. She turned to Marcus who had been standing back, keeping out of her way.

"Take him." She motioned to Andrew, and Marcus approached quickly, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him out of his chair and towards the doorway.

"What are you going to do to him?" Panic set in, and Andrew pulled helplessly against the larger man's grip. Marcus tightened his hold, almost dragging the blonde man out of the kitchen door and into the living area where he pushed him down onto one of the sofas and made a deliberate move to show his pistol.

"Just sit there and shut up." Marcus headed quickly back to the kitchen, pushing the door open slightly but not fully entering.

"This shouldn't take long." Bella answered, before Marcus could ask anything. "I'm just going to have a chat with this one."

Marcus nodded and let the kitchen door swing closed again. He stood by it, as if on guard, shuffling nervously from foot to foot. Nothing was going to plan, and he didn't like it one bit. The whole thing was supposed to be a quick job. Capture Spike, lure Angelus, kill them both. Job done. Nobody had anticipated that the interference of humans; friends would be so significant.

Andrew sat on the sofa surveying his surroundings. He couldn't see anything that would be useful as a weapon against a man armed with a gun. His cellphone was in his pocket but he couldn't see how he could use it without being seen. He was stuck, uselessly sitting on the sofa, while Bella did god-knows-what to Angel.

The sudden horrific noise from the kitchen got both his and Marcus' attention. Andrew recognised the sound as Angel but he had never heard him make a noise like the one he was making now. It was a long, loud groan which did nothing to hide the obvious intense pain and anguish that he was clearly suffering. The sound had distracted Marcus, who had turned again and stuck his head around the kitchen door, and Andrew took the opportunity to slip his cellphone out of his pocket and speed dial the last number he had called.

As Marcus turned back to the living area, Andrew subtly slipped the phone under a loose cushion.

"He's a tough one, your vampire." he said, almost sounding impressed. Andrew cringed as he imagined what kind of mental horrors Bella was subjecting him to in there. He didn't think that Angel would knowingly give anything away about Willow or where Xander and Spike had gone, but he couldn't be sure how strong the mind barrier was. He had to have faith in Willow and her magicks.

"Please don't hurt him." Andrew begged, his voice clear and pleading, "He's weak... he doesn't have much left in him..." He tailed off, not sure what else he could say. 

He knew Marcus wasn't listening; didn't care; wouldn't help. 

He could only hope that, having heard through the strategically-positioned cellphone behind the cushion on the sofa, Giles would.


	44. Chapter 44

An uneasy silence followed Xander into the Convention building. As they stepped through the doorway and into the crowded room, he turned to speak to Lorne and found him gone; disappeared into the masses. Xander couldn't help wondering, for a moment, just where so many people came from to attend a convention in a small backwater town.

He stood for a few seconds to scan his surroundings and was pleased to note that he wasn't the only person out of costume. As he stared across the crowd, Dracula - the Dracula he had walked with - approached him.

"You look kinda lost." The smile the Dracula was wearing looked awkward with his false teeth and painted blood drops.

"Yeah. I suppose I am a bit outta my league here." Xander replied with a chuckle. "I was speaking with Lorne... he appears to have vanished."

"Lorne'll do that." Dracula said, pulling out his teeth and extending a hand. "Brad. It's a whole lot easier to chat with these things out."

"Hi Brad." Xander accepted the hand, shaking it firmly. "Glinda... or was it Elphaba... anyway, one of the witches said you live in the same town as Lorne, nearby?"

Xander didn't want to sound as though he was digging for information, but the fact that this Lorne person seemed to know Spike was more than a little disturbing. "Did you guys go to the same school or something?"

Brad's sudden laugh was loud and caused several demons and monsters to turn in their direction.

"Sorry." the vampire raised a hand to the people around him in apology, "I haven't known Lorne for long. He's not originally from 'round here. But I'm pretty certain that he hasn't been to school... well...anywhere really." Brad was still chuckling as he finished speaking, and Xander couldn't help feeling that he was missing out on the joke.

"What's funny?" Curiosity eventually got the better of him, but the more he heard, the more he found himself really wanting to know how Lorne knew Spike.

"You didn't notice something... different about him? About his costume?" Brad raised his eyebrow but clearly wasn't going to give anything too much away.

"Aside from the fact that it didn't look like a... ahhhhh."

Why hadn't he thought about that earlier? He'd been so caught up in convention and costumes that he hadn't seen what was right under his nose.

"He's a demon." It wasn't a question. It was Xander making a statement in a manner that he hoped showed that he wasn't freaked out by the fact that Lorne wasn't in costume. He was a real, bona fide demon.

Brad eyed him suspiciously, partly surprised that Xander had made such an assumption and perhaps waiting for him to freak out.

"You don't seem particularly bothered by that?" he eventually asked.

"Grew up on the Hellmouth, mate." Xander shrugged. "Sunnydale, demons and monsters, vampires and slayers. It was all kinda the norm." he clarified at Brad's obvious confusion. "There's not much bothers me nowadays." He looked about the room, taking in the growing crowd in various costumes and guises. 

"In fact, this is kinda like being back there." Xander added with a chuckle, "Except cheesier."

Brad looked down at the false teeth in his hand and let out a brief chuckle of his own.

"I suppose this all looks kinda ridiculous to you then. This town is pretty strange." he asked, pocketing the teeth and running a hand through his gel-spiked hair.

Xander shrugged again. He'd heard about Sci-fi conventions, where people dressed up as their TV and movie heroes and heroines, but he'd never really seen a such a group of people dressed as supernatural creatures except at Halloween. He supposed that they didn't know any better, many of the visiters not realising that the demons that they emulated and were dressed as were real, living monsters, out there in the world.

"Feels like home, I s'pose." he replied, waving around him at the masses. "What about you? You don't seem very disturbed to know that Lorne is a real demon. Do you guys get many 'real demons' here then?"

Brad shrugged. 

"Some. The others don't know. I mean, they - Bethany, Lauren and Jacob - they don't really know Lorne. They don't know what he is. He's a good guy though." Brad was quick to add, suddenly fearing for his friend and wondering if he shouldn't have betrayed his confidence so quickly, "He's a good guy. Moved here from L.A. a while ago. Left after some big demon battle or something. He doesn't really talk about it much. He only opened up to me because..." Brad paused and glanced around him before looking back at Xander and motioning to an empty table towards the back of the room. They moved to sit down, relieved to find the crowd had surged forwards and left some space around them.

"He heard me sing. I was walking to work one evening, singing to myself. Didn't even know he was there until he spoke to me. Told me he knew what my problem was... what had happened to me. Told me things he couldn't have known. Shouldn't have known."

Brad shook his head as if clearing his mind, and coughed to clear his throat.

"Sorry. Too much information." He chuckled again. "Anyway, he's a good bloke. He helped me." He sat back in his chair with a long sigh.

"So, he's from L.A. then?" Xander didn't want to pry further into whatever issues Brad had. He barely knew the guy, and he would share if he wanted to, but knowing that Lorne came from L.A. originally meant that it could be how he knew Spike.

"Yeah." Brad pulled his teeth out of his pocket again and pushed them back into his mouth. "Had a demon bar there or something." He stood up and walked around the table, nodding towards the crowd who were beginning to gather around some sort of stage area.

"Come on." he said, lisping slightly with his false vampire teeth in place, "Let's go find the others."

"I'll be there in a bit." Xander responded with a wave and a nod.

He needed to process the information he'd been given about Lorne before he immersed himself in amongst faux vampires and demons again. Lorne was a demon from L.A. He knew Spike, and he'd been involved in a big demon battle before he left. What were the chances that this was the same fight that Spike and Angel had been part of?

Xander suddenly felt torn between nosing around further, to see if he could get any real leads on the whereabouts of Melandra, and getting back to Spike. He glanced at his watch. It was only 11.15am. If he headed back now, he wouldn't have anything useful to report about the vampire they were hunting and, he reminded himself, that was what was important here. 

They had to find Melandra.  
They had to help Angel.


	45. Chapter 45

"That damn stubborn demon bastard!"

Both Andrew and Marcus jumped as Bella stormed out of the kitchen, her long skirt following hurriedly and only barely avoiding getting itself caught in the door as it swung closed behind her.

"He's not giving anything up." She turned to Marcus, who had stood up from the chair and had begun to make his way towards the kitchen, "He's completely blank."

Andrew rolled his eyes but hid the smugness inside. Of course Angel was blank. He didn't know anything. He'd been in an unconscious healing sleep since they had arrived back from the warehouse, and he had no idea what had been going on. He couldn't tell her where Spike and Xander were or why they had gone.

"You!"

Andrew's head darted up to see Marcus pointing in his direction. His stomach leapt, and he felt as though his heart stopped beating as a sudden terror filled him. If they couldn't get the information they wanted from Angel, what would they do to him instead?

"Over here." Marcus beckoned, pushing the kitchen door open again. "Tend to your vampire."

Andrew looked suspiciously from Marcus to Bella. They were allowing him to check on Angel? He couldn't help wondering why. Surely they wanted him injured... or worse.  
Despite his wariness, Andrew stood and entered the kitchen, side-stepping past Marcus who shook his head.  
On seeing Angel, Andrew felt some degree of relief. He was sitting at the table with his head rested on his arms, but Andrew could see he was making small movements. He crossed to the table and rested a hand on the vampire's arm.

"Angel?"

Relief grew as Angel turned his head to the side and gave Andrew a forced smile and a small nod. Andrew nodded back and turned to Marcus who was still standing in the open doorway.

"I need to get him some... he needs to drink. Can I?"

Marcus waved a hand as a dismissive sign of permission granted, and Andrew set about warming a mug of fresh blood for Angel. As he waited for the microwave to finish, he realised that his day's delivery would be due in a few hours. He pushed aside fears about how that would go down, choosing instead to concentrate on helping his injured friend to drink.

Angel drained the mug greedily, and a hint of colour returned to his pallid face. He took a long, unneeded breath and licked his lips before looking up at Andrew.

"Where's Spike?"

At Angel's hushed question, Andrew instinctively shot round to see where their captors were. He wasn't sure if Marcus had heard, but he hoped to God that Bella hadn't. It had been some hours since the mind barrier had been put in place, and he really wasn't certain how long it was supposed to last. He couldn't risk answering Angel's question without Bella finding out, and even if he did manage to, Angel's knowledge could be a danger to himself. Plausible deniability seemed like the best option for the vampire right now.  
Marcus, however, was still standing in the doorway, watching the half-witch who appeared to be pacing the living area, mumbling to herself.

Andrew pulled a chair next to Angel and sat down.

"It's best you don't know." he whispered, leaning in and giving the vampire's arm what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. "Just hang in there."

Angel's eyes lifted to meet his, and in them, the blond could see a combination of sheer exhaustion and gratitude. Andrew frowned and chewed on his bottom lip as he debated his next question and stood up again. He approached Marcus, determined to look unafraid and confident.

"He needs to rest." Andrew's voice was firm and unwavering. "Please let me put him on the sofa or something."

He refused to beg. He refused to show just how utterly terrified he was, both for himself and for Angel. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing just how close he was to breaking.

Bella swept across the room, gliding effortlessly to stand in front of the two men. She peered over Andrew's shoulder to observe Angel's condition.

"Move him." Her voice was cold and commanding, and she had no sooner spoke when Andrew turned and rushed back to the kitchen table.

"Don't do anything stupid." Marcus shouted through behind him, waving his gun in the air again as some sort of preventative threat against the pair. "I'm watching you."

Andrew wrapped an arm around Angel's torso and carefully lifted him into a standing position. Bella said something to Marcus and, in that moment, Andrew noticed that neither person was looking in their direction. Without taking his attention off the two in the doorway, he scanned the kitchen behind him, spotting a small sheathed knife. Why it hadn't been put back into the drawer, Andrew had no idea, but he silently prayed and thanked everyone and anyone listening as he slid it into his pocket and resumed lifting the dead weight of the listless vampire.

Angel roused slightly as Andrew led him across the kitchen and through the doorway, into the living area. He slowly and carefully lowered him onto the nearest sofa, mindful of the cellphone which was still slipped down behind a cushion. As the vampire slumped down, Andrew flicked at the phone, closing it. He could only hope that he'd done enough to alert whoever answered although he couldn't help wondering what help anyone else could be right now.

Marcus and Bella were still huddled near the kitchen doorway, deep in some sort of discussion. Marcus didn't look happy, and he was beginning to raise his voice.

"Really?" He sounded irritated. "There's nothing? Nothing at all?" Andrew watched Bella throw Angel a brief glance before shaking her head and saying something which Andrew couldn't make out. Marcus clearly wasn't pleased with the response, and he threw his hands in the air.

"Why the HELL did I bother bringing you then?" He was waving the gun randomly now, and Andrew could only hope that, for his sake and Angel's, that the safety was on. As Marcus' face reddened, he was even beginning to feel some sympathy for Bella. "We might as well get rid of these two now then? I mean, what's the fucking POINT?"

Andrew straightened at the outright threat to himself and Angel. Bella grabbed hold of Marcus' arm and seemed to be attempting to calm the man, both with words that Andrew could not hear and, he suspected, with magic. Marcus pulled himself from Bella's grasp, but stood firmly, neither approaching or looking at Andrew or Angel. The pair's voices became hushed again, and Andrew felt relief wash over him, followed by the feeling that this moment of calm was only temporary.  
Without taking his eyes off his captors, he rearranged himself on the sofa next to Angel, disguising his movements as he cautiously pulled the small knife from his pocket. He needed to be prepared for the next time Marcus approached.  
He didn't need to wait long. A short moment later, both Bella and Marcus turned and pinned Andrew with a hard stare. After the briefest of glances between themselves again, Marcus nodded towards Angel and Bella approached him with her usual swift elegance, as Marcus made a beeline for Andrew's end of the sofa.

Andrew may have been outnumbered and out-powered, but he was damned if he was going to go down without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a few days late.  
> Have been on a short vacation for Carnival break  
> :)


	46. Chapter 46

Xander wandered aimlessly through witches and vampires, werewolves and other miscellaneous demons, but he didn't come across Lorne, nor did he find anybody who he suspected of being a real vampire. No self-respecting vampire would have been seen dead in amongst this lot, he thought to himself. Kind of ironic really.

He scanned the program one more time, to see if there was anything worth staying for, before turning and making his way towards the exit door. It was only midday but he could return later, with Spike in tow, to check out the live music and see if the nighttime atmosphere brought out the real vampires and demons.

"Leaving already?"

The voice was far too chipper for Xander's liking, and he turned to see one of the witches, Glinda or Elphaba - Bethany or Lauren, he reminded himself - approaching him, her crazy witch teeth looking ridiculous in her broad smile.

"Yeah." Xander smiled back at her, "I'll come back later with Will. Looking forwards to seeing what this place is like after dark, ya know?"

"Sure. I'll see you later then." The witch nodded, placing a hand on Xander's arm and giving it a friendly squeeze. "I'm looking forwards to meeting your friend." she smiled and turned, disappearing into the crowd.

 

Spike groaned as he rolled over on the motel bed, bumping his knees against the wall. He opened his eyes, casting a glance upwards to the small shuttered window. There was little to show how light it was outside, but Spike could sense that it was somewhere around noon. He stretched his arms upwards, rolling his eyes as his knuckles brushed against the roughly papered walls.   
Within a couple of seconds, he found himself more awake than he wanted to be and sat up on the bed with a loud sigh.

Two hours. Two hours and Xander would be back. Strangely, he found that knowledge comforting. He wasn't in the mood to be alone. Deep down inside him, he had this feeling, gnawing at his insides. A feeling of dread. A feeling that reminded him why they were there. Reminded him of Angel; his sire, sick and wasting away.

The thought suddenly hit him like a freight train.   
Angel could die.  
In fact, if they didn't find Melandra, Angel WOULD die.

Spike balled his fists and let out a long, feral growl. Why was he sitting around useless while his Sire lay dying? He should be out, doing something, killing something.

He jumped up from the bed and began pacing across the room. As he moved frantically from door to wall and back again, he glanced up at the window. It was no good. He couldn't go outside at this time of day. Spike growled once more, picking up a mug from Xander's side table and flinging it across the room where it smashed against the dresser and scattered chunks of china across the floor. He stopped, frozen, watching the pieces as they settled against the wooden boards and into the crevices between. Smashed; broken; shattered. Like himself. Like his own unbeating heart. Like Angel.

As quickly as the anger and rage had come, it left, morphing into anguish and despair as he slid his back down the wall and sat on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees.

"Sire." he called out into the hollow emptiness of the sterile motel room. "Angel, you bastard. Don't you DARE leave me."

He banged the back of his head against the wall behind him, shouting, repeating desperate words over and over. 

"No!"   
"Don't."   
"You can't."

Only when his head felt numb from the force did he stop, letting his eyes slide closed and sleep take him once more.

 

"What the...?"

Xander pushed open the door to the motel room and nearly walked in to the vampire. The sleeping vampire, he noted. He turned and clicked the door quietly closed again before creeping past Spike towards the bed.

"I'll fucking rip your..."

Spike was on him in an instant, arm wrapped around Xander's torso and squeezing his chest, holding him immobile in the centre of the motel room.

"Spike!" Xander wheezed, wriggling himself from the vampire's loosening grip as Spike slowly realised who he had hold of. "You OK?"

The concern in Xander's voice was unhidden and genuine. He hadn't expected to find Spike awake, but he also hadn't expected to find him sleeping slumped on the floor, and he certainly hadn't expected to see the drawn look on his face.

Spike dropped his arms and flung himself down onto Xander's bed. 

"Sorry, pet." he replied, looking, if possible, slightly embarrassed by the circumstances. "Was having trouble sleeping..."

He trailed off, like there was more to say, and Xander sat alongside the vampire, resting a hand on his arm. He couldn't help noticing that Spike's voice was shaky and he seemed unsettled. He gave the arm a squeeze.

"Yeah. Kind of a crappy situation really, isn't it? We'll find her though, Spike. We'll find her and then we can fix Angel once and for all."

At the mention of the elder vampire's name, Xander felt Spike's body tense, as though he would pull away from his grip, but he didn't. Instead, the vampire let out a long, shaky sigh and looked up at Xander.  
Xander suddenly felt vulnerable, open and exposed as Spike wordlessly studied his face. He felt his heartbeat quicken under the scrutiny and hoped that his growing apprehension wasn't evident. Not that he didn't mind being this close to Spike. It felt nice. It felt...intimate.

The moment passed when Spike himself broke the silence.

"You're back early." he said, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "Convention was a bust?"

Xander released Spike's arm, relieved for the change in atmosphere that accompanied the question. 

"Actually, not entirely." He shuffled down the bed a little as Spike sat up fully and swung his legs back over the side. "I think I met a friend of yours, in fact."

Spike cocked an eyebrow.

"Of mine?" he snorted incredulously. "Here?"

"Uh huh. I didn't tell anyone who you were obviously. I know we are trying to keep that hush-hush, but, well, I dunno. He must have deduced it from me calling you Will and saying where we were from and everything."

Xander paused for breath, aware that he was becoming his babbling teenage self for a moment. A sideways look from Spike urged him to continue.

"Yeah, anyway. He was a real demon. Green fella with red horns. Went by the name of Lorne?"

Spike jumped off the bed and turned to face Xander, pulling him up and holding him firmly by the arms.

"Lorne? He's here?"

Xander shrugged. He'd barely met the guy and so hadn't really paid him too much attention, but the expression on Spike's face now: the look of excitement, of something Xander hadn't seen in Spike at all since they had left L.A: the look of optimism told him that this Lorne person meant something to Spike.

"He was at the convention, yeah."

Xander looked at Spike questioningly, tipping his head to one side.

"So, who is he then?"

Spike smiled. Not a forced smile, but a real, genuine one that reached his strong, blue eyes.

"Lorne," he said softly, loosening his grip on Xander's arms but not letting go, maintaining the contact between them. "Lorne might just be the person to help us save Angel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick word of warning: I might not be able to posst a chapter next week because I'm in the UK on vacation.  
> I'll try though, I promise :)


	47. Chapter 47

The atmosphere in the room flashed and crackled like lightening in the black of night.   
When Andrew came to, what felt like only seconds later, he blinked hard against the darkness of the room. All the lights were out, and he couldn't help the feeling of terror that ran through him. Dazed, he stood unsteadily and extended his arms.

"Angel?"

His voice was small. Despite the brief surge of adrenaline he was experiencing, he felt weak and tired.  
If Angel heard him, he didn't reply, and as the final crackling sounds subsided, an eerie silence filled the living area.

"Andrew?"

That voice. Andrew knew that voice. It wasn't Angel but... 

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He felt fuzzy and disorientated. He took a step towards where he thought Angel was sitting, managing one step before his legs gave way. As he slid to the floor, firm hands took a hold of him, and Andrew panicked for a moment that Marcus or Bella had him. He had barely managed to turn his head, however, when he blacked out.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he came to, laid on the sofa, Andrew had no idea how long he had been out. He frowned as he tried to recall the previous events, but he didn't really have anything to remember. There was light, then dark, then nothing.

"Angel!"

Andrew sat up quickly, a move that made his head spin, but he shook it off as he scanned the room for the vampire. Spotting him lying on the other sofa, he let out a long breath, relieved that at least Angel was OK. He was about to stand up when a voice stopped him dead.

"He's OK, Andrew. He's just sleeping. Your delivery came, and I fed him."

Andrew's head turned towards the voice as quickly as his throbbing temples would allow.

"Giles?"

The Englishman stood from the armchair, removing his glasses and polishing them frantically.

"Yes. Right. Well, I was getting ready... packing to fly over when I got your call. Things sounded... urgent. Willow couldn't make it herself. She is still weakened from the last spell, but the coven helped to expedite my arrival."

Andrew took a moment to process Giles' words. Suddenly the flash of light made sense, but...

"Marcus... Bella?"

Giles stopped his polishing and slowly replaced his glasses on his face.

"Ah, yes. Your uninvited guests." He turned away and started walking over to Angel, briefly checking on him before he approached the sofa and sat alongside Andrew.

"I am afraid we were drawn into something of a fight while you were out. The half-witch had some tricks up her sleeve but nothing I couldn't handle. The gentleman... he... they were dealt with." Giles settled on brevity rather than a full blow-by-blow account. 

"I don't think they will bother you again."

"You killed them?" Andrew's jaw dropped as his voice raised, incredulous that Giles could have done such a thing. "How long was I out?"

"Goodness, no." Giles' voice sounded even more horrified than Andrew's. "There was no need to kill anybody, but I am certain that they now realise you are all no easy target."

Andrew nodded quietly, unsure whether to be relieved or worried.

"Three hours, by the way." 

Andrew looked up at Giles, confusion furrowing his brow.

"You asked me how long you'd been out. Nearly three hours. I am afraid that my arrival coordinates may have been a little off and you were rather close to the teleportal. It affected you quite strongly. My apologies for that."

Giles looked remorseful, and Andrew let out a brief chuckle.

"You said the delivery came from Brutus? You fed Angel? Did he... I mean, is he... OK?" Andrew turned his attention back to the vampire who appeared to be soundly sleeping again. Giles, pre-empting Andrew's desire to stand and go over to him, put an arm out to stop him.

"He was very weak. I am unsure whether from the previous injuries or from something the witch did to him, but even his demon was weak and reluctant to feed. I eventually managed to get two pouches into him in human form though, and he has been sleeping since. It is best that he stays that way for now, I think."

Andrew nodded, relieved that Angel had fed despite his condition.

"Maybe we should contact Xander. Let him know what's been going on." Giles reached for his cellphone as he made the suggestion. It would make sense to warn Spike and Xander in case there were others out there looking for them too.

"I spoke to Xander before... before all this." Andrew waved his arm about the room. "He said they'd reached Bordensville, found a motel and been to one of the local bars to look around."

Giles let out a barely-suppressed snort at the mention of the bar. Trust Spike and Xander to choose such a starting point.

"There's more though." Andrew continued, smirking at Giles' reaction. "Turns out the Bordensville isn't quite the innocent, back-water town that we expected it to be. They spotted several demons and at least one vampire in the bar itself... and there's some sort of convention of the supernatural going on there too. It's some place!"

Giles groaned. There really wasn't any escaping their lives, wherever they went.

"Did they request any help? Any back up?"

Andrew shook his head, noting as he did so that it hurt considerably less than before.

"Xander wasn't exactly sober when I spoke to him."

Giles opened his mouth to speak, but Andrew continued before he could interrupt.

"But I'm sure they have everything under control. They'll call if they need anything." Andrew's voice lowered and he glanced across to Angel. "To be honest, Giles, I could use your help here... with Angel... if you don't need to get back to England, that is?" He turned to Giles, studying the older man's face as he waited for a response.

Giles had already known. He'd expected this. He was ready for it, and he straightened himself up, clearing his throat and nodding.

"Sure, Andrew. No problem."


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ma boys!!!  
> *squee*

"Did you want to sleep some more before we head back out?"

Spike drained his mug before looking up at Xander's question. The boy flustered slightly under the vampire's intense gaze.

"I just... I wasn't sure... You didn't seem like you'd slept well before." Xander gestured to the spot where Spike had been sleeping on the floor. "You were restless?"

Spike placed the empty mug on the side table, nodding.

"Yeh. Something like that." He swung his legs round onto Xander's bed and leaned back against the wall at its head.

"Ya know, Xan," he began, watching as Xander swung his own legs onto the bed to sit cross-legged facing the vampire, "there's never been any love lost between me an' peaches. Most of my life... and unlife, I've hated him. Hated him as Angelus 'n' hated him with the soul."

Xander sat silently, waiting for Spike to continue. Spike nodded his appreciation and dropped his head to continue.

"When 'Gelus left us - me an' Dru - I'd have killed him in a heartbeat. The bastard just took off, abandoned us when we needed him. Didn't see or hear from him for years... decades... I was so angry. So angry that even my obligations to him, as my grand-sire, didn't matter at that point. I just wanted to kill him. Took a long time for that feeling to go away."

Spike glanced up at the boy, who was listening intently, before lowering his head again.

"When the soul went again... you know... the first time... 'n' Angelus was back proper, I hated him even more. He was still a bastard. He was a bastard with the soul and an even bigger one without it. To be honest, nothing much changed even after I got me own. Not until..."

Spike's voice had quietened and he jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his leg. As he looked up, he saw Xander had leaned forwards and, with his eyes and a comforting hand, was urging him on silently.

"After... when I came back an' landed at Angel's place. Well... at first, I still hated him. He had everything. Fancy place, a good team, friends..." he trailed off for a moment, remembering how lost and out of place he had felt when he first returned. "He had it all there, an' he didn't appreciate any of it. But slowly, I began to see. Saw what he did. What he'd done. What it cost him. I suppose I didn't really notice at the time, but the hate just kinda... went... and after the fight..."

He stopped, taking a moment to look back up at Xander and give him an appreciative smile. As Xander squeezed gently, Spike reached a hand out to cover the boy's. At first, Xander looked as though he would pull away, but after a short moment, he relaxed back under Spike's own grip.

"It's different now?" Xander finished for him, hoping to defuse the tight feeling of anticipation that was weaving its way through his chest.

"Yeah." Spike swallowed hard. "After the fall, we were all we had, ya know? Just Peaches an' me. It felt different. More important. And then there's you..." He took a long unneeded breath. 

Xander nodded, wanting to look away from the vampire but finding himself completely unable to. Spike's hand tightened around his and it had a direct effect on every nerve in Xander's body. He suddenly felt unable to breathe, unable to swallow, as if something had a hold of his chest, squeezing tighter and harder with every passing second.

"You ok?" Spike's concern was obvious and he was about to move his hand away when Xander flipped his own over and grabbed hold of it, curling his roughened fingers through the vampire's pale digits. 

"Spike?" Xander took a shaky breath and held Spike's gaze hesitantly.

Spike didn't immediately answer. He couldn't. He couldn't speak, and he was fairly certain that, were he mortal, he probably wouldn't be able to breathe either. He looked down at the points of contact between them, fingers entwined together like tangled wires, electric and powerful, and focussed on the sensations he was feeling. Suddenly, it was too much and not enough all at the same time.

"You feel it too, don't you?" Xander's voice was small and anxious.

Spike's head shot up again and he found himself looking into the deep pools of Xander's eyes, noticing blown pupils and everything that lay behind and within them. The bark of laughter that Xander then emitted broke the moment, but Spike was immediately drawn back in by the huge smile that followed.

"You DO feel it." Xander exclaimed, breathing heavily like he'd just run a marathon, relief flooding his features. "Christ, Spike. I was fucking terrified that it was just me!"

At that moment, Spike's face mirrored Xander's as a huge grin spread across it.

"I... you... how...?" Spike fought for words, and briefly the smile morphed into a frustrated frown. Xander's face dead-panned as Spike's reaction sank in. How had he got it so completely wrong? He pulled back his hand and started to get up from the bed. He needed to get away.

"I'm sorry... I thought.. I mean..."

Xander's words were cut short as Spike leaned forwards and, grabbing firmly hold of his arms, pulled the boy towards him and pressed their lips together.  
What started as hesitant and uncertain, quickly became heated and passionate before Spike pulled back, looking questioningly into his partner's eyes.

"Well," Xander chuckled, after a moment of getting his breath back again, "I guess that answered that question then."


	49. Chapter 49

Andrew groaned as he stretched, frowning a little as he tried to remember his surroundings and recall what had happened.

"Better?"

Andrew froze, trying to place the voice. Ah. Giles. He shuffled himself into a more civilised sitting position in the armchair, glancing briefly across at Angel before turning to the Watcher.

"He hasn't woken. You've only been asleep for 30 minutes."

Only half an hour? It felt much longer, and Andrew realised that actually he did feel better for it.

"Right. Well, yeh. I do feel a bit better, thanks." He stood up and walked across to the kitchen. "Coffee?"

Giles opened his mouth to speak, closed it again and then, with a sigh stood and followed Andrew across the living area.

"I don't suppose you have any proper tea, do you?"

Andrew grinned back at Giles as he pushed open the door and held it open for the Englishman to follow.

"I'm sure we do." he smiled, reaching up into the cupboard and pulling down a recently-acquired box of English tea. The job had some benefits.   
Giles hovered near Andrew as the younger man set about making tea for two, something he didn't get to do often since moving back to the US.

"I think we should try to rouse Angel."

Andrew's hands froze momentarily at Giles' words. Angel's vampire healing would work best while he slept, and Andrew was worried that waking him would endanger him further. He didn't answer, instead returning to making the teas. Giles sensed the doubt and, taking the offered cup with a polite nod, sat at the table opposite Andrew.

"I think we need to assess him properly, and that is best done first-hand. We need to ask him. Let him assess himself. Despite my... our experience around vampires, Angel will be the better judge of his own condition."

It made sense. Andrew knew it made sense. Despite that, he couldn't help feeling that anything Angel had to say would only confirm his deepest fears. Bad enough that Andrew already thought the worst, he really didn't want it confirming by the vampire himself. He nervously fiddled with his mug, watching the pale brew's steam swirl up from between his fingers. 

He couldn't bring himself to speak though. He couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen if Angel didn't recover.

"You have to have faith in Spike and Xander, you know."

As if reading his mind, Giles' words shook Andrew from his depressing reverie. He shook his head without really being sure what he was disagreeing with.  
Giles silently sipped at his tea, watching Andrew wrestling with his own mind. The young man was clearly very attached to Angel. He always did get rather emotionally involved with his friends and colleagues. Giles remembered the years Andrew had spent in England, training as a Watcher with the newly-rebuilt Council after... after Sunnydale.

Giles nodded to himself. He remembered... he knew all too well how it felt to lose something... someone important. Too many someones. Too much loss. His hands dropped from his mug, and he fought the urge to ball them and punch something. Much as he was supposed to be all the stiff upper lip and restraint of an Englishman, past years had taken their toll on him. He found himself becoming more and more like the Ripper from his teens than the Rupert of his early Watcher years.

"It's not that I don't think they'll succeed." Andrew finally said, standing up and walking over to the counter, where he dumped the mug's remaining contents into the sink. "It's just..."

He turned back to Giles, still sitting at the table, and growled at himself. He felt unable to put into words the torrent of things that whirled wildly in his head and it was frustrating beyond words.

Giles lifted his mug and drained it, grimacing slightly at the inadequately-brewed, cooling beverage. He then stood himself and placed his own mug in the sink, turned to lean against the counter next to where Andrew was standing.

"I'm sure Spike feels similarly." he said, hoping to reassure the young man. "After all, he's changed a lot. He's been through a lot here since his return and Angel is really all he has left now. They only have each other."

Andrew shook his head again. No. That wasn't right. Spike didn't just have Angel. Spike had Xander. Andrew had felt it from the moment they had arrived back at AI from the warehouse. He had felt the connection; the history between them. If Spike lost Angel, he wouldn't be alone to face the future. He wouldn't. Not like Andrew. 

If Angel died...

Andrew jumped as Giles' hand came to rest on his arm. He felt warm fingers curled around as Giles pulled gently, leading Andrew into the living area where he guided him to the empty chair next to where Angel lay on the sofa and took a seat on the other chair opposite.

"Contrary to what you might think of me," he began, removing his glasses to polish them and not quite making eye contact with the younger man, "I do understand, Andrew. I understand loss. The fear of being alone. The pain of losing someone without being able to quite tell them..." he paused, glancing up from his hands as he replaced his glasses. Andrew's head was also lowered, avoiding the Englishman's gaze.

"When Ethan died..." 

A lump formed in his throat, and he mentally chastised himself for faltering. He should be past this point now. He should be stronger; moving on.

"When Ethan died, I couldn't... I didn't..." he rolled his eyes skyward in frustration. _Get a grip, Rupert_ , he thought to himself.

"I hadn't told him." Giles finally blurted out, rather more briskly than intended. "I mean, he knew... when we were younger, before it all went wrong. But since my return to England, since he came back into my life again... We thought we had all the time in the world, so neither of us actually got to that point."

He shook his head and sighed, feeling rather inadequate for the heart-to-heart turn that the conversation had taken.

"What I'm saying, Andrew," he continued, addressing the younger man personally and successfully coaxing him into meeting his look, "is that we only have one shot at this. We, humans. We don't have immortality or even centuries. We have one chance; one brief lifetime to get it right. And I have no idea if Angel feels the same, but you have to tell him. You have to tell him how you feel. You have to tell him that you love him."

Andrew opened his mouth to respond but words wouldn't come. Had he been so transparent? Was it really so obvious? He felt embarrassed but also strangely relieved. Relieved that finally he could relax. Giles knew. Giles knew, and it was OK. He understood, and it was OK. Andrew felt a smile spread across his face and he turned towards Angel on the sofa.

As his eyes fell on prone body of the vampire, he wasn't prepared to see dark eyes looking back at him.  
Andrew swallowed hard as Angel began to push himself up onto his elbows, not breaking his gaze from the young man.

"Andrew?"


	50. Chapter 50

At the knock on the internal door, both men jumped, feeling somewhat as though they had been caught in the act of doing something they shouldn't have.

"Who the hell's that?" Xander mumbled, glancing guiltily at Spike who looked more like the cat who got the cream. The vampire shrugged and stood, walking across the room to check the peep-hole. When he turned back to Xander again, his face was cracked open with a broad, beaming smile. He pulled the door open swiftly, standing aside to allow their guest to enter.

"Lorne!" 

Xander jumped up from the bed and approached the green demon, arm outstretched in greeting.

"How on earth did you know where to find us?"

The question went unanswered, and it wasn't until Xander turned to look at Spike that he realised why. 

"It's good to see you, Lorne." the vampire said quietly and, if anybody had asked Xander, hesitantly.

There was an uneasy air between the two demons, a sense of history; of unfinished business that unnerved Xander slightly. Lorne broke his gaze from Spike and looked at Xander before crossing to the minibar and grabbing a miniature bottle of Scotch.

"I know why you are both here." he said, emptying the bottle in one long gulp. "I know it's something to do with Angel. He's sick or injured... and you need something from this place. More specifically, someONE."

Xander pulled open the minibar and took out the last 3 miniatures of Scotch, sharing them around as he waited for someone to continue.

Spike made to speak but Lorne held a hand up, silencing him.

"Don't tell me. I mean, I don't really want to know. I'm done with all that. I don't owe him anything. He knew that. Knew I was done. After what happened at A.I. with the Powers that Be, and Lindsey...what I had to do..."

Xander glanced nervously from Lorne to Spike but could sense that the demon had more to say.

"I was happy not knowing. Being blissfully ignorant of whatever dramas were going on back in L.A. after the fall. I was. But I couldn't let this happen knowing I could have done something to prevent it. I read something. Someone at the convention, after I spoke to you, Xander. It's amazing how many of you just hum to yourselves, completely oblivious to what you are giving away. As soon as I saw Angel, I knew I had to come."

Xander wasn't sure if it was the whiskey or not, but he was pretty sure that the green demon wasn't making much sense right now. Despite that, he spoke anyway.

"You read something?"

"Lorne can see things." Spike helpfully offered. "If people sing, or hum, he can sense stuff about them; about what's going to happen."

Xander looked at Lorne, who just nodded and shrugged.

"That's about the long and short of it, sweetcheeks." he agreed, knocking back the second Scotch as if it was water.

"And this girl at the hall - vamp, I think - she had Angel all up in her future, and her past. I have no idea how or why, nor do I want to, but I suspect you kids do?"

Spike sighed and nodded.

"Melandra." he replied, as if that one word answered all of life's questions. "We need her to cure Angel. We need her blood at any rate. It turns out that she..."

Spike found himself cut off, once more, by Lorne's raised hand.

"Don't tell me, cutiepie." he admonished with a shake of his head. "I don't need to get involved. I just wanted you guys to know. I don't think she knows yet. That you're here. Didn't get a sense of it anyway. Just wanted to make sure y'all knew she'll be there tonight, at the gig."

"You're not going?" 

It was an assumption, but Xander had gotten a very clear impression that Lorne was done. He was uncomfortable with the reminders of the past and ready to leave Bordensville.

"To the gig? Nah, not my scene. Too much going on that I can't switch off from nowadays. I'm leaving early. Heading back home. But you fellas will get what you need without any further help from me, I'm quite sure."

Xander glaced at his watch, wishing he shared Lorne's confidence.

"S'pose I'd better go get washed an' changed then." he announced, rifling through his bag for a change of clothes. 

Lorne observed Spike watching Xander as the young man disappeared into the bathroom with a cheery wave and a tuneful hum, and the demon turned to the vampire, with a wide, knowing smile, to find it mirrored right back at him.

"Yeah." grinned Spike, his chest puffed out proudly. "I know." 

Lorne couldn't resist the urge to giggle at the vampire's boast, but he quickly reigned it in and his face became serious again.

"Does he know?"

Spike licked his lips slowly, remembering the small exchanges; the words; that kiss. Oh, that kiss. Suddenly grateful that vampires didn't blush, he took a deep breath before answering.

"We're working on it." he replied, smirking. "Early days."

Lorne nodded and glanced at the bathroom door. Beyond it, he could hear Xander's tuneful humming. The sounds were muffled by shower noises but audible nonetheless to his acute demon hearing.

"Just be careful with him, Sugar." he said with a sympathetic smile. "He's human and fragile, and there's gonna be some hurt along the way."

With that, Lorne stood and walked towards the outer door of the motel room, knowing that in the still-light early evening, the vampire would be unable to follow.  
Spike watched Lorne pull open the door and turn back to the room as he stepped outside, his face looking solemn and serious.

"Say hey to Angelcakes for me, won't ya?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a day late, peeps.  
> I got distracted yesterday what with the kids being off school etc


	51. Chapter 51

Angel sat up and stretched tentatively, his eyes flicking sideways to see Giles disappear into the kitchen. Andrew, unsure exactly what, if anything, Angel had heard, shifted across to the sofa, supporting the vampire and helping him to get comfortable.

"How are you feeling?"

Andrew's instincts were screaming at him to move away, back to the chair and forget what had happened, but he fought them, remaining alongside Angel as he sank back against the sofa.

"Yeah... well... been better." Angel began, turning towards the kitchen door as it swung open again to reveal Giles carrying a tray. He passed a warmed pouch of blood to Angel and a coffee to Andrew before taking his position back on the chair opposite.  
Angel nodded his thanks and knocked back the blood, heedless of his companions averting their eyes swiftly. The more blood Angel could get into himself, the better. He knew it, and Andrew and Giles both knew it too.

"So," the vampire began, his face morphing back to human with a juddering lack of ease, "Do I have you to thank for the fact that our uninvited guests are gone?" 

Angel gestured around the room before settling his gaze on Giles who, true to form, removed his glasses and began polishing them uneasily with a cloth from his pocket.

"Well, yes. I suppose so." he said humbly, replacing his glasses and raising his tea cup as a kind of shield against any forthcoming gratitude. "It was the least I could do really... after... well... you know." 

He trailed off, either unwilling or unable to continue. Angel nodded knowingly, leaving Andrew looking perplexed. Angel and Giles both looked at him before looking back to each other, each silently almost-daring the other to elaborate. Giles cleared his throat, indicating that he was aware that the challenge fell to himself.

"Angel helped me out with a problem I had some 12 months ago." Andrew turned to Angel, studying the vampire's expression for any hints of what had happened. "I had a bit of a... situation... in England." Giles continued, not wanting to lose his rhythm for fear of also losing his nerve. "Ethan... well, he had got himself into debt with a Mordath demon, and the demon insisted that it could only be repaid by a Master Vampire."

Giles glanced over at Angel who seemed amused to hear himself called a "Master Vampire" again. It had been a long time since he had considered himself such. Fortunately, his old reputation preceded him in demon circles in England. 

"I called Angel, and he came over to assist. He really did save Ethan's life." Giles' voice cracked at the repeat of his ex-partner's name. "Even though we did not have long together, I am eternally grateful for the time we did have and am in little doubt that, without Angel's assistance, Ethan would have been killed."

Angel, who had remained silent throughout, spoke up. "Consider us even, old man." he smiled cheekily. "Now help me up off this sofa. I need to make a phone call."

"I don't think..." Andrew was cut short by a raise of the hand and the flicker of a shifting face. He instinctively recoiled away from the vampire, holding his hands up in the hope of placating him.

Giles stood and approached Angel, extending his arms as an offer of support. The vampire leant forwards to accept, allowing Giles' to wrap an arm securely around his back to help him to stand. He started slightly as Andrew quickly came in to assist on the other side. If Angel wasn't going to rest, the least he could do was ensure that he was supported and safe.

"Thanks." Angel's voice was low and hoarse, betraying his true condition as he grunted himself upright and crossed slowly, flanked by the two men, to the office. 

As they lowered him back down into the large office chair, Angel nodded his thanks once more and the two men took it as a clear sign that the vampire wished to be left alone.

"I'll... well, we'll be... just outside... when you're done."

Andrew really didn't want to leave Angel alone, even if only for a few minutes while he waited outside, but there'd be no arguing with the "Master" vampire, and he followed Giles back across to the lounge area as Giles continued to the kitchen.

Angel huffed an unnecessary sigh of relief as he found himself alone finally. It felt like so long since he'd spent any time with his own thoughts. He'd been unconscious or asleep for days, and each time he woke finding himself surrounded or attended to by well-meaning friends. It felt like an age since he could just sit and think.  
He thought over the past few months, the time since The Fall, his friends and his family. Andrew had been around for a while, and Spike... it felt as though Spike had been around forever. He spared a thought for his grand-childe, out there with the Harris boy. He'd barely spent any time with Xander since he'd arrived back in the US, and he just hoped that the two of them were getting along. The job they had, to find Melandra, wouldn't be easy. Even if they found her, she wouldn't give up blood easily, and feeling invincible would make her much more likely to fight back.

No, they were on a fool's errand. Angel would never have permitted it had he been in a position to argue before they went. Spike could get himself dusted, and Xander, he could get himself killed... or worse - turned - and for what? So they could extend the life of an over 250 year old vampire who had already lived too long and seen too much?

"Enough." Angel mumbled, picking up the phone from his desk. "No more loss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I've nearly finished actually writing this fic, I've estimated the overall length at about 70 chapters.


	52. Chapter 52

The bathroom door swung open and Xander reappeared, one towel loosely slung around his hips and another scrubbing frantically at his head.  
Spike, still lying on the bed where he'd thrown himself after Lorne left, pushed up onto his elbows and admired the sight of the boy's flesh, damp and flushed from the heat of the shower.  
If Spike had been human, he'd probably have flushed himself as the Xander threw down the towel he'd been using to dry his hair and turned to beam a smile at the vampire.

"Lorne left then?" he grinned, more stating the obvious than actually asking a question.

"Huh?" Spike blinked and shook himself visibly, a move which made Xander chuckle before realising just what had gotten Spike so distracted.

"Lorne? Green dude with red horns?" Xander hoped the light-hearted tone might detract from his blushing, and he turned away from Spike, nipping back into the bathroom to put on the clothes that he'd taken in with him. With Spike and Lorne both in the room, he had intended to change into his clean stuff in the bathroom. Unfortunately, post-shower, Xander had forgotten that he wasn't alone and had, out of habit, emerged in just a towel. As he pulled his shirt over his shoulders and began fastening buttons, he sighed at his own stupidity.  
Since when did he bother who looked at him? He and Spike had shared a place before, it's not as if they were strangers. He couldn't help thinking that if it wasn't for the obvious attraction that was simmering between them; if it wasn't for that kiss, he probably wouldn't have given a second thought to drying off and dressing in front of the vampire.

Oh, that kiss.

As he slid closed the buttons on his jeans, Xander smiled remember the kiss, brief as it had been. He glanced in the mirror and fought the urge to laugh out loud at his ridiculous grin. He ran his fingers through his hair and shrugged. It'd have to do. It's not as if they were going out on the pull!

When Xander re-entered the room, Spike was back to laying nonchalantly on the bed. While Xander had been back in the bathroom, the vampire had changed and was now wearing a tight black tee and a dark red over-shirt with his skinny black jeans. Xander had to admit that he looked hot. It was pointless denying it.

As he lay stretched out on the bed, he looked effortlessly alluring and, when Xander stepped further into the room, Spike turned to look at him, face plastered with his trademark smirk.

"Like what you see, whelp?" he winked, swinging his legs around and flinging himself gracefully into a sitting position. Xander took another step forward and found himself perilously close to the vampire as Spike launched himself to his feet in front of him.  
Xander flinched slightly but stood firm. He wasn't some flighty teenager, scared of getting close or doing something impulsive. He'd lost far too much, in the past, by playing it safe.   
When he had made the decision to come to LA, this older, wiser Xander Harris had resolved to take life by the horns. Whether those horns be metaphorical or real, he wasn't going to miss out on life any more. He was toying with the idea of reaching out when Spike took all reasoning and decision out of his hands.

"Really," Spike chuckled, grabbing Xander's upper arms and pulling him close, "you think to much."

Spike's words ghosted past Xander's right ear, making tiny hairs all over his body stand to attention. It wasn't the only thing, Xander noticed, that was beginning to come to attention. As Spike pulled him in closer, inhaling deeply as the boy's aroused scent deepened, Xander felt both their cocks stirring and a low growl against his neck indicated that Spike had noticed the same.   
Feeling his pulse quicken, he waited for the vampire to make the next move but, after only a few seconds (which felt like much longer), Xander realised that Spike was holding back. 

Maybe he'd changed his mind. Or maybe he thought Xander might.  
It wasn't like Spike to hesitate about anything, and Xander suddenly worried that this had all been a big mistake.  
Then he realised; he understood.

Spike was waiting; waiting for Xander; waiting for him to be ready; to assent.

Xander pulled back slightly, noticing the gold eyes, vampire ridges and unnecessary heavy breaths of the vampire. Spike was avoiding eye contact though. Perhaps not wanting to see Xander's face as he mocked or rejected.

"Hey." he said quietly, almost timidly like trying to speak to a small child or frightened animal.

"Hey. Look at me, Spike."

Spike froze for a moment, still looking somewhere behind Xander's right shoulder. Xander swallowed hard and lifted an arm, turning Spike's face towards his and forcing him into full eye contact.

"Hey you." he smiled at the vampire, hoping that everything he was feeling came through in his words and his expressions. "It's OK."

Spike remained silent, still unsure where this was heading.  
Xander leaned forwards, briefly pressing his lips to the vampire's before pulling back and maintaining eye contact again.

"Spike, I want this. I want you. I want all of you. Mind, body and soul... hey, I can say that now, huh?" he chuckled, and his face broke out into an even bigger smile noticing that Spike seemed to relax a little and chuckled with him.

"I know what you are, Spike. I know you're a vampire, I understand that... this..." he cupped Spike's face with one hand, running over the contours of his demon face with his thumb, "but I also know that you're different; unique. I want to know more about you. I want to know EVERYTHING about you. I want us to find out _together_ if we can make this work, you and me. Vampire and human. I don't know if I can give you everything you want or everything you need, but I'll try. I want to try."

Realising he was in danger of beginning to babble like his teenaged self, Xander cut himself short and looked at Spike, anxiously waiting to see his response. The resulting toothy grin looked awkward on the vampire, and as relief washed over him, Xander began to laugh openly. After a moment, Spike joined in, and they laughed together for a while before both fell silent again, quietly studying each other with their eyes.

"I'd like that." Spike finally said before pulling Xander towards him again and pressing his mouth firmly to that of his partner. This time there was nothing hesitant about it; nothing uncertain. It was all passion and need and want and desire, and as Spike's hands dropped to pull Xander's body even closer still, pressing their hard lengths together, he growled with satisfaction.

"I'd like that a lot."


	53. Chapter 53

Angel pressed the end call button slowly and deliberately, as if what he had just done was nothing out of the ordinary; nothing unusual or momentous. It was just like he hung up his calls every other day, in normal, uneventful circumstances.  
He carefully placed the cellphone down on the desk and sat back in his chair with an unnecessary huff of breath.  
It was done now. The call had been made and soon it would all be over.   
AI could go back to business as usual, and everybody he cared about would be home again and safe.  
The vampire glanced out of the office window. It was nearing dusk out and hopefully it wouldn't be long before he heard something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dark figure sat on the bed in a gloomy motel room.   
He growled at his phone as the call ended and continued to stare at it long after the line had quietened.  
In all his years, he'd never been asked to do something like this.

As he glanced towards the window - just after dusk, he noted - he shook his head and stood swiftly, grabbing his coat from the hooks by the door.

"Better get going then." he muttered to himself, pushing open the motel door and making his way to a dusty, old Chevy parked just outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oi! Watch it!" 

Spike growled at the blonde witch who jostled against him in the large hall. There was quite a crowd gathered for the gig and, much as Spike loved a good mosh, he was feeling edgy amongst so many demons.  
It was supposed to be a quiet trip to a quiet town to find a single vampire. Easy peasy.

He growled again and turned to snap at the dark haired demon who elbowed him in the ribs, stopping short when a hand took his arm and pulled him to one side.

"You'll get us thrown out." Xander said, leading Spike to the bar. "We need to be here."

Spike nodded his thanks as the bartender dropped two beers onto the counter top.

"This place is making me antsy." he whispered, heading to the last empty table around the edge of the hall. "It was supposed to be a quick in and out." He groaned as he flung himself down on the chair, leather duster billowing out as it flapped to the floor. He pulled it in roughly.

"Bloody demons everywhere in this place. An' that's only the ones I can sense. This convention is a demon hot spot. Hell, this whole damn town is. How the bloody hell didn't Giles even know about it?"

Xander didn't answer. He didn't have an answer. It did seem puzzling that nothing had been documented about the town, but Xander was aware that The Watchers' Council had lost many of their records when their headquarters had been destroyed by Caleb. So much valuable information had been lost, but it was difficult to be frustrated about it. So many lives had been lost too.

"Listen," Xander started, taking a courage-building gulp of his beer and frowning at the watery taste. He'd never get used to American beer again after spending so long in the UK. His eyes darted about the room before he turned back to Spike. "We need to focus. Clearly your preternatural senses aren't helping here like we hoped they would, but you're forgetting something."

Spike raised an eyebrow, curious as to where this was going. Xander's face broke into a huge grin as he drained his pint and stood quickly.

"Demon magnet here." he said, pointing a finger at his own chest. "Always have been, always will be. We're going about this all wrong." Spike emptied his own glass and hurriedly rounded the table to join Xander. "Forget about trying to find Melandra ourselves," Xander continued, ruffling his hair and undoing a couple more buttons at the top of his shirt, "I'm going to make her find me."

Spike stopped in his tracks, just inches from where Xander was standing, and reached out to grab the boy's arm.

"You're going to what?!"

If Xander had been expecting a reaction from Spike, he wasn't quite prepared for the one that followed. Xander had expected ridicule and mocking, the ritual teasing that he'd grown up with, first from his parents, then the Scoobies and their extended network of help, Spike included. He hadn't, however, expected Spike to pull him closer, pressing almost chest-to-chest against him, and watch the vampire struggle to maintain his human face.  
The move confused Xander for a moment before he took a step backwards, opening up the space between them.

"Think about it, Spike." he said, his voice low but ensuring Spike would hear even in the bedlam of their surroundings, "Your senses are overloaded right now. You can't see wood for trees. I've spent a lot of time doing this, don't forget. I honestly think I can make Melandra find me, but if you keep trying to scent mark me, I'll have no chance."

Xander's face, like his words, was stern. Not joking or messing around. Not even a hint of the class clown he had once been. Spike had no doubt that Xander was deadly serious about this; about putting himself in harms way in order to find Melandra, and he was annoyed. Annoyed that they had found themselves needing to do this, annoyed that he couldn't do it himself, annoyed that Xander seemed to think that this was what he needed to do.

Most of all, Spike was annoyed that the boy might actually be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter!! Woohoo!  
> A present to you all because I only have one more chapter (chapter 70) left to write!


	54. Chapter 54

The Chevy pulled up outside the motel, engine spluttering as it came to a halt.  
Since he'd left his own motel, darkness had settled properly and something within the man relaxed slightly.

He frowned, checking his instructions again and scanning the parking lot before he was convinced he was in the right place.  
Angel's towncar almost looked out of place among the other dusty vehicles, but it was recognisable nonetheless. It was a car he'd never expected to set eyes on again.  
He swung open the car door and glanced down at the scrappy piece of paper in his hand. He needed to get to Mojo's before he made his way to the convention. After an hour driving, he was in need of something to eat and, once he'd spoken to the right people in there, he'd be able to find what he was looking for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike necked another JD as he watched Xander stride confidently through the growing crowd. He was glad of the mild buzz that the alcohol was starting to give. The whole room was making him edgy but watching the boy had his nerves well and truly on end.   
Xander had his shirt unbuttoned halfway down, ensuring that anybody who was partial to a bit of real, human flesh couldn't help but notice. 

Spike's demon growled - "MINE!" - and it took every ounce of the vampire's restraint to keep it at bay. 

A dark-haired female, dressed unconvincingly as a vampire, approached the boy, flashing pearly white teeth (complete with fangs) at Xander's smile. Spike rolled his eyes at her costume, such a stereotype. Not even his beloved Drusilla would have worn such an outfit. The demon made its presence felt once more at the memory of his first love lost and Spike signalled for another drink.

It was going to be a long evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey. I'm Cally"

The dark-haired girl smiled sweetly at Xander, who had noticed her approach. He'd sensed immediately that she wasn't actually a vampire but had decided that perhaps not looking so obviously available might be more likely to catch him a real demon.

"Hey yourself. Xander." he replied coolly, "Can I get you a drink?"

He led Cally towards the bar, quickly glancing over at Spike as he turned. The vampire avoided his glance, making Xander falter slightly for a moment, but he soon straightened up, smiling again at his companion as he stood waiting to be served.

"Allow me." Cally winked, raising a hand to the bartender who, as if by magic, appeared instantly before them.

"Two beers?" she asked hesitantly, turning to Xander for confirmation before nodding herself at the drooling barman. "I figured you were a beer kinda guy. Service comes quicker for those of us blessed with these." She nodded downwards, towards her ample cleavage, enhanced greatly by the corseted effect of her costume.

Xander kept his eyes up and shrugged. "I'll drink anything, me." he replied, taking a bottle in each hand and leading Cally over to a slightly quieter area. He paused to recall how much alcohol he had drunk in the past few years. Bad stuff, most of it. Cheap, nasty fixes that made him shudder to remember.

"So," he began almost half-heartedly, "you from around here then." Xander cringed at the obviousness of his line. It certainly wasn't one of his best, but he reminded himself that he wasn't really here to pull. He'd already done that once this trip. He had more important things to do.

Cally tipped her head back and took a drink before lowering her bottle and nodding.

"Sure am. Lived in Bordensville all my life. Been coming to this convention every year. It's quite a scene." She looked deliberately around the hall as she spoke, as if marvelling at everybody there, and Xander wondered just how much she knew about the crowd around her. If she'd always lived there, surely she knew about the demon population? He wondered how on earth to begin finding out.

"We're an obvious choice to hold the event, of course." she added, as if reading his mind. "The demon population here has never really been particularly underground."

What response she had been expecting from Xander, he really wasn't sure, but it probably wasn't the bark of laughter that came next.

"That's not the usual reaction." she said, eyebrow raised in an expression he had seen all too often from Spike. He resisted the urge to turn at look at the vampire. He was probably watching anyway.

"Do you tell everybody you meet about the... unusual population here?"

Cally herself laughed loudly this time, flicking her hair back as she did so.

"Well, no. Not usually. But I figured that, you know, you're at a demon sorta convention. You'd be cool with that kinda thing. Plus, you might even be one, for all I know. Wouldn't be the first time I've dated a..." she trailed off, realising what she'd said.

"Sorry, not meaning to imply that... well, not assuming we'd be dating or anything." She wrinkled her nose up, and Xander smiled, placing a hand affectionately on her arm. She reminded him of himself.

"It's fine, really." he reassured her. "But you're right. It's all like home for me too. I pretty much grew up living and breathing demons." He frowned and wrinkled his own nose, realising how that sounded, and within seconds, the pair were giggling hysterically with each other.

"Oh boy..." Xander gasped, grabbing hold of Cally's hands and fighting for breath between bouts of laughter, "we're a pair, huh?"

Cally held his hands tightly as she brought herself under control, and as their breathing eventually began to calm down, Xander found Cally staring just a little too intently into his eyes.

Meanwhile, on different sides of the hall, two vampires watched the pair.  
One keeping their demon under control, and one definitely losing the battle with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished it!!  
> I finally finished writing this fic (wrote chapter 70/the epilogue just now!) and so I'm going to be posting one chapter a day (when I can/remember)
> 
> Wooohooo!


	55. Chapter 55

"I'm looking for some friends of mine."

Mark looked around from the tall blonde he'd been flirting with at the bar, picked up the bar cloth and began cleaning the surface as he moved closer to the man.

"I get that a lot." he said nonchalantly, lifting the man's empty whisky glass and holding it up. "Another?"

"Sure." He had some time. The convention would be ongoing well into the night, and he was certain that a guy like him would get the information he needed fairly quickly anyway.

Mark dropped the refilled glass with a nod and carried on wiping down the area. It was already clean, and it was evident that Mark was just busying himself, but the man wasn't sure whether he was avoiding him or everybody else.

"So," Mark didn't look up as he spoke, as if not wanting to make it obvious that he was having a conversation, "Who?"

The clink of the empty glass hitting the bar top made Mark look up again briefly.

"Well, that's a two-fold question."

The next refill came without need for words.

"Firstly, I'm looking for two men who came in here. Yesterday, I think. One dark, well built. The other..."

"Blonde vampire." Mark raised his eyes as he finished the man's question. He remembered. He remembered all too well the pair who had come in and spent the evening in one of the seating booths. The chemistry between them had been clear for all to see. "They were here. Think they were staying at the motel... for the convention, maybe. What d'you want with them?"

"Actually, I don't." He lifted the refilled glass more slowly this time, taking his time over this one. "I just need to make sure I know where they are. I'm actually looking for someone else." He glanced up, wanting to see how much of Mark's attention he had. Mark had stopped wiping but his eyes were still down, waiting.

"Someone... like me," he added, placing the glass directly into Mark's line of sight. Mark nodded without looking up. He knew what the man meant.

There was a deliberate pause before Mark slowly raised his head to meet the man eye to eye.

"How can I help?"

The man knew he had Mark's full attention now. The bar around them wasn't very busy, a dozen or so locals were seated at tables behind and a young couple standing at the other end of the bar itself. There was a faint hum of chatter around them, enough to ensure that their conversation was neither noticed or heard.

"Her name's Melandra."

He knew he didn't need to say more. Melandra would be known in the area, in a town which seemed to have more than its fair share of demons and monsters. Mark paused before he actually spoke.

"Is that why those other guys were here? They were looking for Melandra?"

He frowned, trying to think back to what little conversation there had been between the two men and himself. They hadn't given any impression that they were looking for somebody.

"I suppose." The man was dismissive but definitely interested. Spike and Xander had obviously chosen not keep quiet about their reason for being on Bordensville. That might mean that he could get ahead of them and find Melandra before they did. This was good news. He needed an edge.

"Well," Mark glanced around him, checking to make sure that nobody was too close or listening, "I guess your friends will be at the convention. It's the obvious place to start." He looked back at the man, waiting for a response but, getting none, continued.

"I mean, she'll be there. Later, maybe. She usually does the after hours stuff at these events. After the band's done. She'll put on a bit of a show of her own."

Mark smiled as he finished speaking. Melandra's shows went down well at these events. Sure, the local vampires tended to roll their eyes at her melodramatic approach but those who were just visiting for the convention were usually quite drunk by the end of the night and were always entertained by the display, by the dropping of fangs and the face morphing. He remembered being there in the front row one night when a young girl next to him squealed loudly at Melandra's transformation and turned to Mark, grabbing his arm tightly, gasping, "How? How does she do that?"  
Mark had suspected that she didn't really want to know. Melandra had looked down at them in the crown and winked.  
The girl's body had been found in an alley the following day. Whether it was coincidence or not, Mark wasn't sure, but he'd given the "aftershow" a wide berth from that point on. Nobody had ever claimed that Bordensville was a safe town after dark. It was Sunnydale incarnate... or undead... or something.

"And before that?"

The man really wanted to get the jump on Melandra and find her before then. That way he could be done and gone before he even had to enter the convention. Being at the convention meant that he was in danger of being spotted by Spike and Xander, and he was hopeful of avoiding being seen altogether. 

"If she's not mingling at the gig, in the bar behind the centre, maybe. It's mostly full of her kind. The locals won't go in there, and the visitors won't even know about it. You'll be OK, of course. I'd try the convention first though. She does like to see all the wannabes dressed up." Mark smiled, a smile which didn't quite reach his eyes and diminished quickly when it wasn't returned. "If I see her, should I tell her who's looking for her?" Mark didn't want to seem like he was prying, but he also didn't want it to look like he was afraid of the man standing before him.

The man instinctively reached to his back pocket, curling his fingers around the handle of his stake. He would have no problems entering the bar. He'd try there first. He could get in, stake the vampire and get out again without anybody even raising an eyebrow.   
These things happened in demon bars.  
Clan wars, ancient feuds and the like.

He raised his hand again, satisfied that he had all the information that he needed to carry out his mission, and smiled at Mark, extending his arm out for a handshake.

"Gunn," he introduced himself calmly, "Charles Gunn."


	56. Chapter 56

"Pretty, isn't he?"

Spike's grip tightened on his Scotch glass as the voice crept in from behind, settling on his right shoulder. He resisted the urge to turn around. He didn't need to. He could feel her.

"Look at them. How can you stand to watch that? It's disgusting."

He could feel his demon screaming out, fighting through the layers of defence that Spike had in place. Careful layers that Spike had honed and trained to keep the demon quiet.  
The fact that he wasn't rising to her bait, infuriated her.  
She growled quietly, shifting from Spike's right to his left, the demon inside him tracking her every move.

"I could just eat him up."

Spike swallowed down half of his drink and took a long, unneeded breath but kept quiet. He wouldn't let her rattle him. Making a scene definitely wouldn't help right now, and it was probably exactly what she wanted.

"I know you."

She hummed, drinking in his scent as she moved around to Spike's front.

"You smell... familiar."

She tipped her head slightly in a move that reminded Spike a little of Dru when she was trying to figure something out.

"You smell..." She paused and frowned as Spike watched her. At this point, he was certain that Melandra would work him out. She was a vampire, after all. She could smell the blood of Aurelius on him and she would place it eventually. Despite the huge effort it was taking for Spike to remain quiet, he was determined to keep things on the down low. He glanced over to where Xander was standing with his dark-haired companion and hoped that the boy wouldn't notice the vampire.   
He would know instantly who it was.  
Even without really knowing what she looked like, Xander would know it was Melandra.

Spike drank the last of his Scotch and leaned past her, placing the empty glass on the nearby table.  
He stood straight again, squaring himself up to the tall, dark vampire before him.

"Spike." he said calmly, "or you might know me as William the Bloody."

He wasn't sure how much Melandra might know about him. Whether she'd know about his reputation or his history. Whether she'd know about Sunnydale. Or the soul.

Melandra didn't reply. For a moment, she just looked at him, clearly considering his response.

"William the Bloody." she repeated after a while, letting out a short chuckle. "Haven't heard that name mentioned in a long while." 

She smiled as she moved back around to his right shoulder again, like a predator circling its prey.

"Decades, in fact."

She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as she pressed her cheek against Spike's neck.

"Aurelius." She hummed again before moving back abruptly and taking a step back away from Spike's side, placing herself just behind him, out of his line of sight.

"And what, may I ask, brings you here?"

Spike looked up to see Xander watching him, his eyes silently questioning. Spike had to make a quick decision about what to do. Did he signal the boy to come over and put Xander in danger, or did he stay quiet and let him rejoin his female companion who was dancing casually at his side?

Xander stared across the hall, his focus honed in on Spike and the woman who stood behind him.  
Something was wrong, he could sense it. He flicked his eyes from Spike's to those of the mystery woman and, in an instant, knew who she was. It was her. It was Melandra. Xander's heart skipped a beat as he realised he had spent so much time hoping to lure Melandra himself that it had never occurred to him that she might find Spike. And that she might be able to sense exactly who he was.

At that moment, Xander made a decision.

"I'm sorry." He turned to Cally, giving her a broad, apologetic grin. "I've just seen somebody I really need to speak to about something." He glanced briefly across to Spike and Melandra before turning back to Cally again. Placing a hand on her arm, he leaned in a gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"Maybe later, yeh?"

He didn't hold out much hope though.

Xander took bold, confident strides across to where Spike stood scowling at him. It hadn't been Spike's intention to bring Xander into this, but it seemed like the boy had ideas of his own. As Xander approached, he broke out into a smile, extending his hand to the woman now at Spike's side.

"Spike." he nodded to the blonde vampire before turning to Melandra. "Xander Harris. Pleased to meet you."

He was hoping for calm and casual; that maybe the vampire didn't know who he was or what he was doing there.

Melandra's dropped her eyes to the boy's outstretched had and raised an eyebrow.

"Cocky, isn't he?" she muttered to Spike, all but ignoring Xander himself. "Do you always let your pets speak so... freely?"

Xander opened his mouth to object but, with a look from Spike, closed it again hastily.

"Not exactly my pet." Spike said, taking a step sideways and turning so he could face both Xander and Melandra. The move made his demon relax somewhat, feeling less at threat now that it wasn't just the two of them.

"He's just a friend, that's all. Heard about this convention and thought I'd come check it out. Xan here came along for the ride."

Melandra looked unconvinced, smirking at Spike before wrapping her fingers around Xander's arm.

"Just a friend, huh?" she purred, leaning in to Xander and inhaling deeply against his neck. "Funny then how he smells just like... like you." 

She looked at Spike and her smirk grew. "Well, you... and that woman over there."

She noted Spike's demeanour stiffen, and Xander pulled his arm free.

"What do you want?" he asked, moving to stand next to Spike. She was making him nervous and he could see that Spike was also less than comfortable with her presence. They should have felt safe within the large crowd in the hall, but there was a strange feeling of unease, and several people had moved away, sensing the change in atmosphere around them.

"I asked Spike here the same thing... although I'm starting to have an idea."

She stared at Spike, long and hard, and both Xander and Spike became aware of a connection between the two demons. It took all of Spike's willpower to keep it down but the demon knew. He knew there was something. Something she had a pull on. Something about which his demon wanted to know more.  
It soon became apparent that Melandra had felt it too.

She nodded slowly as she took a very firm grasp of Xander's arm, digging in her fingernails and cutting through his shirt sleeves, into his flesh, drawing blood

"I think you need to come with me."


	57. Chapter 57

"Scotch, no rocks."

Gunn took a seat in a corner booth and nodding to the girl when she placed his drink down on the table. The demon bar wasn't very busy. He supposed perhaps many of the regulars were at the convention, enjoying being able to hide in plain sight amongst the costumed visitors.  
His position gave a good enough view of the area. He could see the door, and he could see almost all of the main, public area. A few vampires, a few other miscellaneous demons, some of which he recognised, some he didn't.

Melandra was noticeable by her absence: there were no female vampires. Gunn had decided not to ask after her at the bar to begin with, not wanting to get off on the wrong foot in a demon establishment. He'd just sit and observe for a while, see who came in and what went on and then maybe head to the conference hall later, if he needed to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"In here?"

Xander wrinkled his nose at the shabby-looking entrance. It was old and tatty and reminded him of... Right. Willie's bar.

Melandra nudged him through the door, keeping her eye on Spike to make sure he was following. She was fairly certain he wouldn't separate himself far from his pet. He did seem very attached to the boy, and Melandra couldn't deny that she could see why. He was feisty.

Xander almost stumbled through the doorway, into the open bar area. It wasn't at all like he expected. Where the outside had been scruffy and unwelcoming, the inside was clean and tidy and most definitely a demon bar. If demons had a smell, this place was filled with it.

Xander hoped that the feeling of apprehension and dread that he felt in his stomach didn't show on his face. They'd love that, and he didn't feel like playing at demon bait right now.  
He cast his eyes about, seeing only about a dozen or so patrons scattered about the place, none of whom even batted an eyelid as Xander and Melandra entered, followed by Spike.

"Huh." Spike muttered, eyeing up the sizeable selection of drink on show - both human and demon - behind the bar. "Not bad."  
He sauntered past both Melandra and Xander and nodded to of the bartender.

"Two double JD and whatever she wants." He waved his hand dismissively in Melandra's direction. "We'll be over there." He pointed to a booth on the far wall and wandered over to it, leaving Xander and Melandra standing at the bar. Xander stifled a smile. He knew what Spike was doing: he was trying to take back control... and succeeding. 

"Morphis." Melandra barked at the barman, tightening her grip and Xander's arm before leading him over to the table at which Spike now sat on a bench, lounging nonchalantly. She pushed Xander down onto an available chair and sat alongside Spike, deliberately separating him from the boy.

A minute later, a young girl dropped three glasses onto the table. Two doubles and a blue cloudy liquid in a tall glass: Morphis, Xander supposed.

"So," Melandra began, taking a long drink from her glass before leaning forward and looking directly into Xander's eye, "Tell me why you are here."

Xander looked at Spike, willing the vampire to step in; to do something. He had no idea what to say to Melandra. He had no script for this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gunn watched as the dark-haired boy entered, almost falling over his feet as he did so. It was only a few seconds later, when he noticed the tightly-gripped hand on his harm, that he realised why... and who he was. He watched Melandra steer the boy to the bar and shrank further into his seat when, close behind, in came Spike. He hadn't seen Spike since The Fall; since they all went their separate ways after the battle. That had been the agreement. He'd heard from Angel once or twice since then but never Spike. He wasn't sure if Spike even knew, but he guessed that, if he was detected, he'd soon find out.

He watched Spike saunter away from the bar and seat himself in a booth that was, thankfully, far enough away from where Gunn himself was sitting that he hopefully wouldn't be noticed. Melandra and the boy - Xander, he presumed - were close behind, and nobody seemed happy. It was difficult to tell which of the vampires had control of the situation at present.

Gunn ran through various option in his head, choosing to sit quiet and wait to see what happened next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You know, if you keep threatening my boy, I'll have to stake you."

Spike leant across the table, breaking the contact between Melandra and Xander. He could see Xander's breathing had quickened and he could almost hear the boy's heart racing. If he could, so could everybody else.

Melandra leaned back again, rolling her eyes with an unnecessary sigh.

"So he IS yours now, huh? When it suits you. I thought maybe you'd consider trading him... I could do you a good deal..."

Spike purposely let his mental guard drop, and his demon jumped at the chance to break out, having been contained against its will for altogether far longer than it was content with.   
Xander watched the vampire transform and reach around to grab Melandra's throat, pushing her back and raising her up against the back of the bench seat with a roar.

"No. Deals." he growled, loosening his grip only momentarily as Melandra's demon face transformed in response. "The boy is MINE."

Melandra raised her hands in submission, and Spike dropped her, letting her fall down onto the seat again. Spike wanted to rip her to pieces. Not just out of frustration but for threatening Xander; his friend; his boy; his... whatever he was becoming. Despite lack of formalities, even Spike's demon felt possessive and aggressive.  
It'd only take one twist to snap her neck... except they needed her; they needed her alive; needed her blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gunn watched, ready to leap into action if he felt he could help. He'd also agreed to ensure the safety of Xander and Spike, and he knew well enough that Melandra was strong and believed herself to be invincible. This made her incredibly foolhardy and dangerous and put Spike and Xander in danger.  
He relaxed only a little when Melandra appeared to submit but kept his hand on the handle of his stake.  
He may only have one chance to do this.

He didn't know why he'd been asked to do it, but he knew that he owed Angel. After what had happened during and after The Fall, it had been agreed that it was best that they went their separate ways, but Gunn had promised Angel that, if he needed him, he'd be there to do whatever was asked of him, no questions asked.  
And this was it. He hadn't asked why, he'd just answered yes.   
It was his duty to do as he had been told by Angel; by his Sire.


	58. Chapter 58

**TWELVE MONTHS EARLIER.**

Spike stumbled, his fall only being broken by the body he landed on. A young girl, fifteen years old at most, bleeding out; dead. Spike pushed himself up onto an elbow and blinked hard as he looked around himself.  
Everything was dark, smoky, desolate.  
It was deafeningly loud and deathly silent at the same time.

Something fell close to him, and Spike jumped to his feet. He couldn't stay here. He wasn't safe. He needed to find Angel... and Gunn... and Illyria.

No, he'd seen Illyria fall. She'd thrown herself, powers and all, between Gunn and some demon lightening bolt. Spike wasn't sure if she was dead, but she was certainly gone... for now.

Gunn, bleeding heavily and clinging to life by a thread, had been pulled from the scene by Angel. Spike hadn't seen them since, and, as he ran through what looked more like Hell than Los Angeles, he wasn't sure if he'd ever see them again.

____________________________________________

"Just leave me."

Gunn's voice was hoarse as he fought for breath. Injuries from his battle with the senator's bodyguards had been severe, and he was in no shape to fight more, yet, while there was more fighting to be done, he'd sworn that he'd be there. He'd followed Angel, striking out as best he could, when he could, but now, he was mortally wounded and bleeding out. He would only slow the vampire down. Angel needed to leave him; to continue the fight.

"I am NOT leaving you."

Angel vamped out as he turned to Gunn. Behind them, something crashed to the ground. Something was thrown through the air - a car - and flew with great force through a window. Neither man not vampire flinched. They were immune to the noise and the chaos.

"Sorry." Angel shook his head, forcing the demon down and morphing into his human features. "The demon wants to fight, but I am NOT leaving you here alone."

"I'm going to die, Angel. I'll only slow you down, and for what?"

The look Angel gave Gunn next said so much without words.

It was something that Charles Gunn would NEVER have considered previously. Not in the comfort of good health. Not after what had happened to Alonna. It was everything he hated and had fought against all those years, and he'd refused to give it any consideration during battle. If he died, it was meant to be. It was his time.  
Yet there was still so much to do.

He looked up at Angel and, wordlessly, asked the demon for its help.

"Gunn, I don't know if..." Angel struggled to find words. He knew what Gunn was asking, but he couldn't make any promises. Couldn't promise that it would prevent his death; couldn't promise he'd be safe; couldn't promise if he'd be OK after; couldn't promise if he'd still be the same person.

"Angel. Please." Gunn refused to beg but his plea was heartfelt and needy. "I need this. I need to be here. You need me. I can do more."

Suddenly, the noise around them in the alley seemed to disappear and only an eerie silence hung in the air, enveloping the pair.

"If I do this," Angel finally said, breaking the unbearable tension which was strung out between them, "You will not be able to fight. I will have to keep you somewhere safe until you recover. I can't guarantee..."

"I'm dying. I'll take that chance." Gunn pulled himself into a seated position, squaring up to the vampire. "Just do it and leave me in here. The hoard has moved on for now. It's good enough."

Angel nodded. Over the years, he had built up a respect for Gunn. He couldn't refuse the man's dying wishes. Not now.

_______________________________________________

Angel had to move his childe three times during that first week. The battle in Los Angeles wasn't won, but both sides had taken heavy casualties and the demons appeared to be retreating somewhat. He hadn't seen Spike since the alley, and he had no idea whether he was alive or... he refused to acknowledge the alternative. Spike was tough. Angel just held onto the hope that he was out there, somewhere.  
He'd witnessed Illyria's jump in front of Spike, saving him from certain death. Whether the blue demon had survived or not, Angel didn't know, but he knew enough about her to know that she could take care of herself.

He tended to Gunn as regularly as his duties allowed, feeding the childe when he could. He'd been awake and alert for a while, and Angel had first needed to chain the new vampire for his own safety. As Gunn came back to himself, Angel could see that much of the man had remained in tact and the demon, eager to please its Sire, learned quickly. Within 6 weeks, Gunn was unchained and shadowing Angel as he continued to pick off anyone who got in their path. The Childe moved into AI, which had remained undamaged thanks to the permanent, unbreakable wards put on it by The Powers that Be, and lived with Angel while the pair fully recovered from the ongoing battle.

It was 8 months before they felt safe and LA began to heal.

It was 2 more months before Spike returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. It's been a mad busy week.  
> Next update should be Monday, when I'm back from the Spanish MotoGP


	59. Chapter 59

**TEN MONTHS AFTER THE FALL**

"I'll be back by morning." Gunn shouted through to his Sire, as he slipped out of the rear door of AI. Angel had tasked him to hunt down a new vampire clan that had settled in the Westwood district. Reports were that they'd been moving fast, both killing and recruiting, and the fledglings needed eliminating before it got completely out of control.

Angel grunted an acknowledgement and poured himself a triple measure of some cheap Scotch. It had been getting increasingly difficult to find the good stuff since The Fall, and he'd learned to make do with what he could get. He swirled the amber liquid around in the crystal glass for a while before taking a large gulp and revelling in the harsh burn as it slipped down his throat.

It'd been a long week. It'd been a long year, in fact. Ten months after The Fall, and they were finally beginning to get back to some sense of normalcy. As normal as could be expected, at least. Angel hadn't seen or heard from either Illyria or Spike and, while he didn't mourn the former's loss too much - he'd gotten accustomed to being without Fred long before, of course - the absence of the latter had affected him more than he cared to admit.  
Spike was his Grand-Childe. Up until the time he'd turned Gunn, Spike had been his only remaining family, to his knowledge, and much as he hated to admit it, he missed the blonde vampire. He missed the bond; the unspoken love between them. Even though he didn't know for certain whether Spike was gone, a part of him felt lost; bereft; empty.  
Even though Gunn was Angel's Childe, he could never replace Spike.  
There was too much history; too much between them.  
It was a loss he would feel forever, and, for a vampire, forever is a long time.

As he slumped back into the large leather chair, he let out an unneeded sigh and looked around him. The office looked worn; tired; old. Much like Angel himself felt.  
Why was he doing this? Why had he turned Gunn? Did he feel, even then, the need to have someone close? Someone he could rely on. Family. Continuation of the Aurelius line.  
Had he done it for purely selfish reasons, to ensure that he wouldn't have to suffer the crippling loneliness that he'd spent so many past years doing?

The bond between himself and Gunn felt fragile. It was there, but it was thin; hesitant; like the years that the two men had spent fighting side-by-side had meant that the natural Sire-Childe bond felt almost unnatural.

Maybe he'd made a mistake. Perhaps, he should have left Gunn to die in the alley.

He started as the front door swung open into the lobby. It was too early for Gunn to be returning back, and Angel instinctively reached for a stake before heading, tentatively towards the door between his office and the open reception area.  
The wards on the building should hold off any unwelcome guests but you could never be too sure. So much had changed, both natural and supernatural, since The Fall.

He crept slowly and silently up to the doorway and cracked it open a little to look out.

"I know you're here. I can smell you."

Angel flung open the door a little too enthusiastically before reigning it in and walking quickly out into the open area.

"Spike?? What the...?"

The blonde vampire flung himself down on the couch, his leather duster whooshing out around him. His clothes were battered and torn, his skin chafed and bleeding and his face drawn.

Angel stood and stared, not quite sure whether his eyes were deceiving him or whether Spike really was there, on his couch as if the past ten months hadn't gone by.

"Get a guy a drink, will you? Been months since I had anything decent."

That'd be Spike. Ever the presumptuous, demanding offspring, despite his obvious damaged state.  
Angel refused to smart at the demand, however, instead heading to the kitchen and heating up two bags. He returned with double blood pouches and a tumbler of Scotch.

"I can't vouch for the Scotch, but the blood is fresh."

Spike took it, wordlessly, with a nod, and the two sat in silence for a few minutes before Angel finally spoke.

"Spike," he began, choking back the threat of emotion that he refused to let break through in his voice, "I thought you were gone."

The blonde placed both mug and glass onto the table and leaned forwards, elbows resting on his knees as he faced Angel. He had no idea what the older vampire had been through since The Fall, but he could see on his face that times had been difficult.

"I thought you were dead." Angel said again.

"Yeah." Spike wasn't sure where he'd been or what he'd done for the past however long. He had no idea how long it'd been since The Fall. He'd been fighting one minute and waking in some god-forsaken alley the next: a cycle the continued for what seemed like endless months. Then, he'd found himself so badly injured, he'd holed up in an abandoned building in Chinatown, being sporadically tended to by a young Chinese girl whose family had been killed several months previously. It'd been hard, his recovery, and he'd found himself wishing himself dead several times. Considered doing it himself too. With so much still left to battle and without Angel, Gunn, Illyria or anyone else, what was the point of continuing?

Li had shown him that, however bad things got, there was always reason to carry on; to get up and fight, and, as the vampire spoke about his life, she'd been the one to convince him to return to AI to find out for certain who had made it.  
If he was honest, he'd never expected to find anybody there. 

As Spike finished explaining his long absence, Angel swallowed hard. It was clear that Spike had assumed everybody was dead and he'd suffered himself as a result. He looked exhausted, and Angel felt that pull towards his Grand-Childe that he'd missed so desperately. Everything that was missing between himself and Gunn, he felt rushing through him in an instant, drawing him to Spike. He felt whole. He felt complete again.

Now what to do about Gunn...


	60. Chapter 60

**TEN MONTHS AFTER THE FALL cont.d**

"So you're telling me that you've been quite happy here on your own?"

Angel shrugged. He'd been trying not to say too much since Spike returned, but it was getting increasingly difficult to keep the conversation away from their fallen comrades: Wesley, Illyria and Gunn.

As the night had gone on, Angel had become more and more sure that he couldn't tell Spike about Gunn. Fortunately, Spike hadn't been able to sense Angel's new Childe, but that might not last. As Spike healed, his senses would become more acute, and Angel knew he wouldn't be able to hide him. He knew he needed to get Gunn as far away from them as possible.  
He could feel the pre-dawn prickle at his skin, and he glanced towards the clock. Gunn would be back within the hour, and he needed to get Spike out quickly so he could deal with things.

"I don't need anyone, Spike." Angel stood, deliberately making himself tower over his seated Grand-Childe who rolled his eyes, defiantly. His demon protested at Angel's obvious aggression, instead wanting to take Spike and claim him; show him his place, but Angel suppressed the instinct. He needed to get Spike out of AI, just for a short while, until he could speak to Gunn. With dawn fast approaching, however, he knew he needed to be quick and that once Spike left, he'd probably be gone until dusk again.

"You're crowding my space, boy." Angel spat, taking a deliberate breath before continuing. "I'm glad you're OK. I really am, but I need to be alone right now."

Spike raised an eyebrow. He hadn't exactly expected a warm reception when he arrived back, but he certainly hadn't expected to be all-but thrown out on the first morning either. He opened his mouth to speak but, in a very unSpike-like action, closed it again. For whatever reason, Angel needed space, and Spike was in no position to argue.  
He pulled himself up from the chair and nodded.

"I gotta go out for a bit anyway." he lied, pulling his duster back over his shoulders again. "Spotted this cute li'l demon bar a few blocks over. Not seen it before, but it looked as though it was the kinda place that'd be open all hours."

He wasn't sure if Angel would see through the lie, but he didn't really stick around to find out as he pushed the lounge door open.  
Unsure of where he was really heading, he slipped out of AI's building, quickening his step to find some place of safety before dawn arrived.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Angel swept his eyes over the lounge, checking that there was no remaining evidence of Spike's visit before Gunn arrived back. He'd barely pushed the glasses back into the cabinet when the rear door swung open.

"You should have seen me, Sire." Gunn flew in, all smiles and adrenaline, dropping his bag on the floor and heading to the kitchen where he reached into the fridge for a pouch to heat up. "Took out a whole nest over in Westwood... there's a load more left, but God, it felt good..." 

He trailed off, realising that his enthusiasm perhaps wasn't being as well-received as he'd anticipated. Angel had followed him into the kitchen, but he hadn't yet spoken.

"Everything OK?"

The smile faded as Gunn took in his Sire's serious face. It was serious even by Angel's standards, and that could mean nothing good.

"What's happened?"

Angel beckoned for Gunn to sit and poured them both a large Scotch, emptying the bottle. The Childe removed his blood pouch from the microwave and drank it quickly, his demon eager for the taste after so much fighting without feeding. As he finished, his face juddered inexpertly back to human again, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  
Taking the proffered glass of Scotch, he sat opposite Angel at the kitchen table.

There was a moment of silence as both men drank.

"It's time for you to leave."

Gunn froze, glass in hand, and looked at Angel. Was he serious? Leave? Now?

"I'm sorry, Gunn. I know you probably thought you'd be able to stay here, but you're not who you were any more. You're changed. You're a vampire."

Angel glanced up from the table, where he was absent-mindedly swirling the cheap orange liquid in his glass.

"I mean, you need to leave. Your demon, it'll become edgy here. We've managed to train you somewhat, but it won't be enough for you to stay here. You need to get out there in the big wide world. Let the demon live a little. Prove you can keep it together without my guidance."

Gunn went to speak, finding himself silenced by Angel's raised hand.

"I'll keep an eye on you from a distance. I'll know where you are; how you're doing. You'll be fine."

Angel went quiet, looking directly at Gunn and giving silent permission to respond.

"I thought I'd be able to work here, with you? I'm stronger than before. Faster. Keener. And the demon, it wants to help. It wants to please you... Sire." He added Angel's title as an afterthought, almost a plea.

"You can please me right now, Childe, by leaving." Angel's voice rose. He hadn't meant to lose his temper with the young vampire, but his need to have Spike back was strong, and there was no other way right now. 

"When I decide you are ready, I will call you back. I may need you some day."

Gunn's face transformed as he lost the battle with his demon. The thought of being parted from his Sire was eliciting a strange reaction with which he was unfamiliar. The demon wanted to be needed by its Sire. It needed to be needed, and he felt almost bereft at the rejection.

"I shall forever be at your command, Sire." Gunn struggled through his demon guise, fighting not to beg Angel to keep him close as he stood up and made his way to the kitchen door. The best way to make his Sire proud right now would be to do as he was asked. He knew his place.

The pair walked into the lounge and, as Gunn lifted his bag back onto his shoulder, Angel nodded to him before openly turning his back on the new Childe.

As Charles Gunn left AI through the rear door, Angel had no idea when - or if - he would see him again.


	61. Chapter 61

**Present Day**

Spike glared at Melandra, almost daring her to have another go at him or Xander, but the vampire stayed quiet. She'd already spoken her question, and it was all she needed to know: why they were in town. She felt very uncomfortable at Spike's presence. He smelled too familiar and it both irritated her and riled her demon. She knew from experience that Aurelius meant trouble.

It was Xander who first lost patience and chose to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I don't suppose you'd believe us if we told you we came for the convention?"

Spike wanted to laugh but he suppressed it. Trust the boy to make light of the situation. Maybe it was what it needed, although he wasn't sure what Melandra's reaction to the levity would be.  
Melandra fixed a stare on the boy, forcing him silent. Spike could sense a small spike of fear as Xander sat back in his chair again, chewing on his bottom lip.

"You're right to be afraid, boy." Melandra said, deliberately keeping her tone non-threatening so as not to aggravate the vampire sitting next to her.

"I will find out, you know." She turned to Spike, giving him a smug look. "I have...skills."

Spike rolled his eyes.

"Don't think you can thrall me, girl. Even that crazy Sire of mine never managed..." he stopped short, realising that Melandra would know Spike was talking about Dru. Dru who had played a part in damaging Melandra all those years ago.  
If Melandra had noticed, she didn't show it.

"Don't bother trying it on Xander either." Spike warned. "Been trying to thrall him myself for years. Reckon the boy is immune. Something to do with previous demon possession, or I dunno."

Xander raised an eyebrow at Spike's mention of the hyena. He wasn't even aware that Spike knew about it. He'd certainly never mentioned it during their period sharing the basement. No doubt, Buffy had told Angel, and Angel had told...

"Really?"

And perhaps it would have been better if Spike hadn't chosen that moment to renew Melandra's interest in Xander, as the female vampire got up and walked around to Xander, standing behind him and inhaling deeply.

"Mmmmmmmmm." She was almost purring as she tipped her head, pressing her nose to the boy's neck. Xander, to his credit, didn't flinch, choosing instead to keep his eyes fixed on Spike.

Spike, who was losing a battle with himself.

He jumped up, knocking the table sideways as he rounded it, grabbed Melandra by the arm and flung her away from Xander. Both vampires vamped out and Melandra quickly righted herself before using her preternatural speed to pull Xander in front of her. Her fangs dropped, hovering dangerously close to his neck.

"Don't. Move. William." She spat out Spike's human name, making her intentions quite clear.

Spike cast his eyes about the bar, noticing that the handful of other demon patrons were all watching. If Melandra carried out her threat, they wouldn't give it a second thought. A demon bar is no place for a human. Spike would be on his own defending Xander in here.

"OK. Fine. We're fine." He raised his hands to Melandra, hoping his surrender would be enough, but it soon became apparent that it wasn't when the vampire herself launched at Spike, throwing him down on the upturned table.

She was strong. Very strong. Clearly whatever magicks had healed her had made her stronger than even Spike was expecting. Perhaps her invincibility wasn't so far-fetched.

Thoughts jumbled in Spike's head as Melandra pounded it into the table leg again, and the next thing he knew, Xander had piled on top of her, pulling her backwards. 

Spike tried to stand up. He tried and failed. He lifted a hand to his head and opened his mouth to shout out to Xander. He needed to warn him. Xander could never win in a fight alone against Melandra.

Spike was about to yell and rejoin the fight.

Except he couldn't.

"Shit!" he exclaimed as darkness took him.

"Spike!" 

Xander saw the vampire pass out and bravely (or stupidly) released Melandra to rush over to him. As he approached the vampire, it was clear he was out cold, and Xander slipped a hand into his back pocket, whipping around to press a stake to Melandra's chest as she rushed up behind him.

"Move another muscle, and I WILL stake you."

He flicked his eyes from Melandra to Spike and back again, cursing himself for forgetting that Spike was still recovering from almost fatal injuries.

"He needs blood."

Xander looked around him. Some of the demons had left when things got out of hand, and the rest were just standing around watching.

"I need blood." he repeated, louder. "Anybody?"

He shouted again, getting no response except for a resolute shake of the head from the bartender.  
He briefly considered pushing up his own sleeve and feeding the vampire, but he couldn't. Not here. Not surrounded by other vampires and demons. Even Xander considered that foolhardy.

"You!"

He turned back to Melandra, his stake pressing a firm dent into her chest. It wouldn't take much to do it. Just a quick pull-push and she'd be dust, and she knew it.

"You." he repeated, jabbing the stake as a reminder. "Feed him."

Melandra's sense of self-preservation kicked in. The boy had shown courage, bravery (and stupidity) and a determination that left her in absolutely no doubt that he would be both willing and able to finish her. For the sake of a bit of blood, she enjoyed her unlife too much.

She nodded, slowly pushing up a sleeve and baring a wrist before pressing it to Spike's mouth. Despite unconsciousness, the already-dropped fangs slid in easily and the demon drank. After a dozen or so long pulls, fangs retracted and Melandra pulled her arm back, cradling it to her chest.

"That was... unnerving." she muttered to herself.

Xander wasn't listening.  
He was completely preoccupied with Spike and ensuring that he was OK. So preoccupied that he didn't noticed when Melandra slipped sideways, out of reach of the stake, and wrapped a hand around the boy's neck.

So preoccupied that he was completely unaware of anything until the hand vanished and, as Xander spun around, Melandra crumbled into dust in front of his eyes, revealing a tall, dark vampire with a stake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I forgot to post yesterday!  
> *grovels*


	62. Chapter 62

Xander jumped up from Spike's side, his heart in his throat.

"You've...What the?... Oh my god." he gasped, looking down at the pile of dust where Melandra had been moments before.

"What have you done?"

Gunn squinted at the boy. He'd just saved him from almost-certain death at the hands of a vampire, but from the look on Xander's face, you'd think he'd just dusted his best friend.

"We... oh my god." Xander was having trouble forming words as the impact of what this man - this stranger - had just done. He'd dusted Melandra. Melandra, who was the only person with blood that they knew could save Angel.  
Without Melandra's blood, Angel would die.

"Excuse me?" Gunn was unimpressed. He expected lack of gratitude from the demon world, but this human could really have been just a little more grateful.

Xander sank down next to Spike, slipping his hands under the vampire's arm and pulling him up onto the bench seat behind. Gunn leant down and righted the flipped table and a chair before sitting on it. The remaining demons around them had gone back to their drinks, and nobody paid the trio any attention.

"I'm sorry." Xander positioned Spike lying down, putting his body into the best position to heal. "It's just... we needed her. We needed Melandra. Needed her alive." He sighed, watching Spike. He looked so dead when he was unconscious, and Xander hated that about him.

"He'll be fine." Gunn could see worry in the boy's face. He didn't know who he was, but he recognised that look; that concern for Spike. "He's just healing. He'll be OK."

Xander looked up, his face deadpan.

"You're a vampire. I should have guessed. Bet you're wishing you hadn't bothered coming in here now, huh? Came out for quiet drinks, ended up staking one of your own." 

Gunn chuckled for a moment before composing himself again.

"It was no accident." he said solemnly. "I was sent here actually. By Angel."

"Wait! What?" By Angel. Did he just say Angel sent him?

"Angel sent you? Here? To protect us?" 

Gunn shrugged. "Not exactly." he started. It looked as though more information was needed, and he hadn't been told that he wasn't allowed to talk about it... now that he'd been seen anyway.

"I mean, Angel sent me, yes. But not to protect you. Not directly. He sent me to kill Melandra."

Xander's face crumpled with confusion. Why would Angel want Melandra dead? It didn't make any sense at all.

"I'm Charles Gunn." Gunn held out a hand, formally introducing himself with a handshake. "I know this is Spike, but I'm afraid that I don't know you."

Xander, in a rare moment of speechlessness, opened and closed his mouth soundlessly.

"I knew Spike back in LA, before The Fall. We worked together at AI... until the fight. That's when I was wounded... fatally so... Angel saved me."

"Angel...saved you?" Xander was struggling to process everything he was hearing. He half-expected to wake up from some weird dream and find himself still in the motel room.

"He turned me." Gunn clarified. "I would have died if he hadn't."   
He stopped talking and glanced over to the unconscious vampire lying prone on the bench.

"I haven't seen Spike since. He doesn't know."

Xander nodded. This he could comprehend. People keeping secrets from each other: this he was used to.

"He'll know as soon as he wakes up. You know that, right?" Xander knew Spike wouldn't be fooled for a second. He'd see Gunn for who... for what he was.

"But I still don't understand why Angel sent you to kill Melandra. We needed her. We need... needed her blood... to heal Angel."  
Xander looked across the table to Gunn who sat silently.

"He didn't tell you, did he? Angel didn't tell you that he was dying."

It was Gunn's turn to be speechless. Angel was dying. His Sire was dying. Just as everything would be out in the open, with Angel and Spike and himself, he finds out that Angel is dying. Worse still, Gunn had just dusted the only thing that could have saved him.

"But... how?"

Xander flopped back against the bench with a long sigh.

"That," he began, "is a very long story. Suffice to say that Spike and Angel were injured by some demon knife. Willow healed Spike but couldn't heal Angel due to the spell that fixes his soul. Melandra's blood... was the only thing that might have saved him. It's... complicated." Xander really couldn't be bothered to explain the whole story.

Right now, he just wanted to get back to LA. 

They'd failed what they'd gone to do.   
Failed to bring Melandra's blood back.   
Failed to save Angel.

"Can you help me get Spike back to our motel?" Xander asked, standing up and wrapping an arm around the sleep-heavy vampire. "I want to get packed up and head back to LA first thing tomorrow. Nothing for us here now."

Gunn stood, taking Spike's other side and more than half of his weight.

"Course. I understand. I should get back to LA myself. If there's anything... anyone to get back to." Gunn had no idea what he would go back to. When he got the call from Angel, he'd been away from LA for a while, but he'd thought that perhaps they could get back to being a team at AI afterwards. But, if Angel was dying...

"We'll tackle that when we get there." Xander said reassuringly as they hefted Spike out of the bar and along the darkened streets towards the motel. "I don't understand what Angel was thinking when he asked you to kill Melandra, but let's get back to LA and we'll sort it out there. Meantime, Spike can heal and I can sleep. We'll be leaving before dawn."

Gunn looked up at the full night sky. He estimated about 5 hours until dawn would begin to prick at his skin. He would get a head start. Head off now and be in LA before dawn broke.

As they pushed open the motel room door and guided Spike to one of the beds, the vampire was very obviously rattled, and Xander placed a hand on Gunn's arm. 

"I'm Xander, by the way. Xander Harris. Original Sunnydale stock." He laughed emptily, the expression not reaching his eyes. "Let's not jump to any conclusions, eh? Angel might be fine. Maybe there's another cure, and you guys can all live as one big happy family." 

Xander was still aiming to lighten the mood, but it wasn't really having much effect. Too much had happened, and there was still too much at stake.

"Maybe." Gunn said, pulling his arm from Xander's touch and glancing over to Spike one more time before turning to leave. He crossed the room back towards the outer door, intending to leave for LA immediately, until a sound from behind made both men stop.  
They turned around to see Spike sitting up on the bed.

"Gunn?"


	63. Chapter 63

"What the hell...?"

Spike moved too fast in an attempt to cross the room, swaying precariously on his feet before he'd even taken three steps. Xander was there in an instant, arm around the vampire's back, guiding him back to the bed to sit again.  
Gunn, notably, stayed where he was.

"Gunn?"

It was clear that Spike wasn't sure if he was awake, asleep, delirious or dreaming, as he repeated his former colleagues name.

"You're... alive."

Gunn sideways glances Xander before slowly approaching the pair and sitting opposite on Xander's bed with a long, unneeded sigh as he lowered his head.

"Of sorts."

Those simple two words conveyed a lot. They conveyed to both Spike and Xander almost everything that the younger vampire had gone through and was feeling. Endless months of pain, of heartache and of waiting. Waiting to be part of something again; his family; his Sire's family. Always wondering if he'd ever be welcomed or accepted.

Nobody said anything for several long minutes until Spike squared his shoulders, suddenly coming to a realisation.

"Angel."

It wasn't a question. He knew.  
Gunn looked up, his face a reflection of all the anxieties he had about Spike finding out.

"That sneaky son of a..."

Spike stopped short, seeing Gunn's flinch at the unintentionally loud outburst.

"Hey." he said, hoping to placate the jumpy vampire. "It's OK. Really." Spike's face transformed into his trademark smirk and he leant over to jab Xander, who'd been keeping a safe, quiet distance, in the ribs.

"I guess that makes you my uncle, huh?"

Spike raised a questioning eyebrow at Gunn, waiting for a response. The younger vampire seemed to settle a little as he took another unneeded breath - old habits - and nodded slowly.

"I guess."

There was an awkward silence for a moment which had Xander fidgeting restlessly on the bed before standing up and crossing to the mini fridge which, thankfully, someone had replenished in their absence. He pulled out three beers, throwing one to each of the vampires before leaning back against the dresser and opening his own.

"I don't know how all of this vampire family thing works," he began, taking a long pull of the perfect brew, "but I'm sure Angel will sort something out when we get back to..."

"Fuck!" 

Spike's exclamation took both of his companions by surprise.

"Where?... Melandra? What happened?"

The sudden realisation that Spike wasn't where he should have been was a reminder to them all of the importance of what they were actually there to do. Gunn looked over to Xander, deferring to the boy to explain the situation, and feeling like any tolerance that Spike might have had for him would quickly vanish when he heard what had happened.

"Ah... yes." Xander took another drink and sat himself back down next to Spike on the bed.   
"There was a fight, in the bar. You remember that?"  
Spike nodded with a frown.

"Well, you were knocked out. Proper out of it. I mean, I only knew you weren't dead... er because you weren't dust."

Xander swallowed hard, steeling himself for the rest of the story.

"There was more fighting, and I got the upper hand on her... briefly... I forced her to feed you." 

He almost smiled at Spike's impressed look. It wouldn't last.

"But when you... when you were done, she turned back on me. She'd have killed me. She would have. So I..."

"I dusted her."

Gunn found his voice. He wondered for a moment whether Xander was going to confess to dusting her himself, and Gunn couldn't let that happen. If there was going to be any relationship between them, whether family or work, it couldn't be founded on lies.

"She was going to kill Xander. It was easy really. Except... well, that was before I knew... about Angel. He told me to come. He ordered me to kill her. I don't understand why."

Gunn shook his head, barely containing his fragile demon as he all but admitted he had doomed his Sire to die.

"Why would he do that?"

Spike growled, his face switching to demon only briefly before he tamped down on it.

"The stupid git." he cursed, crushing the half empty beer can in his hand. Xander placed a calming hand on the vampire's arm, the point of contact soothing them both.

"The stupid git." Spike repeated, shaking his head. "He did it so we wouldn't get killed. He ruined every chance he had to be healed by Melandra's blood, just to prevent us from getting tangled up with her and getting injured or killed. Stupid, sentimental idiot."

Spike's arm relaxed under Xander's touch and he nodded gratefully at the boy. He couldn't help the relief he felt at having him there; next to him; with him; alive. But at what cost?

Another silence hung in the room as the three men came to terms with what had happened. Melandra was gone, and without her, Angel would be next.

"Hang on a minute."

Spike broke the silence with an inappropriately large grin on his face and an unusually high pitch to his voice.

"You said you made Melandra feed me?"

Xander nodded, confused at Spike's sudden change of mood.

"Ha!" Spike barked, clapping one hand on Xander's leg and finishing his beer from the crumpled can in his other. He turned to look up at the window. About 3am his senses told him.   
All weariness drained from his body, and he leapt up, jumping about the room impatiently as he grabbed at both his and Xander's things and started packing them back into the holdalls.

"We have to go. We have to go back to LA NOW . I know how we can save Angel."


	64. Chapter 64

Xander pushed his way in through AI's front door, holding it open for Spike to hurry in after. The early morning sky was just starting to shift into dawn, and Xander had noticed in Spike's demeanour that it was making him antsy. Fortunately, they had made it back to LA in time to get indoors before the sun rose.

"Xander!"

Andrew leapt up from the armchair where he'd been napping.

"Spike!"

He threw his arms around the blonde vampire, pleased to see him alive and actually looking well.

"I wasn't expecting you back. You didn't call. We had no idea what was going on. Angel has been hiding in his office more than not, and Giles..."

"Giles?"

"Ah. That would be me." Giles entered the room, placing his polished glasses back on his face. He'd managed to get a few hours sleep, at least.

"Giles!" Xander exclaimed, running up to and throwing his arms around the man. 

"Err, yes. Good to see you too, Xander." Giles chuckled as Xander released him. "Spike." He nodded in the direction of the blonde vampire who nodded back. "You're looking well."

Spike dropped the holdall down onto the floor.

"Feeling it, old man." he said, rolling his shoulders and actually realising that, for the first time in a while, he actually felt great.

"So you got it then? Melandra's blood? Where is it? We need to get it into Angel." Andrew's enthusiasm was to be commended, but Giles had noticed the small glances between their arrivals. Glances that said all hadn't gone to plan.

"What happened?"

"Wait... what?" Andrew looked between the 3 men. "What do you mean 'what happened?' You didn't get it?" His face fell and he stumbled back to the sofa where he collapsed onto down onto one arm, barely keeping a hold of his emotions. "You didn't get it."

"There was an incident, yes." Xander began, wanting to skip past the story and straight to the end, but knowing that the men deserved some explanation. "Melandra was onto us. There was a fight, Spike was seriously injured. I thought I had her, but turned out I didn't. She was going to kill me. She would have killed me if..."

Andrew looked up, willing Xander to continue.

"If what?"

"Gunn dusted her."

Angel's voice startled all four men as he tentatively walked through from the office.

Xander ran over, Spike right behind him, taking one side each of the slightly staggering vampire. He looked bad. Pale. Paler even than his usual pasty self. And that was saying something.  
The two men guided Angel down onto the sofa, and Andrew slid off the arm to settle alongside him.

"Gunn?"

Andrew turned to Angel, waiting for an explanation, and Angel found himself centre of everybody's attention.

"Yeah, Angel." Spike added, making him self comfortable in one of the chairs. "Why DID you send Gunn to kill Melandra?"

"You did what? Why on earth would you...?"

Andrew was losing his fragile hold on himself, and he felt tears threaten behind his eyes.

"Peaches here thought he was helping us." Spike filled in for the elder vampire. "Thought he was being honourable or something. I dunno. There's more to the story, I'm sure, but for now..."

"Listen." Xander perched on the sofa arm next to Andrew. "It's not all bad. Yes, Melandra was dusted... by Gunn... which is apparently a story in itself... but we have Melandra's blood."

Giles looked at Xander, confusion furrowing his brows before he again removed his glasses and began polishing them. Andrew sniffed and turned to Spike.

"You do?"

Spike puffed out his chest and smirked.

"Uh huh." he said, proudly. "Thanks to my boy here," He gestured to Xander who responded by blushing gloriously, "we have her blood anyway... in me."

"Oh good lord." Giles replaced his glasses and heading towards the kitchen. "I'll make coffee."

Angel looked at Spike. A look that said everything. It showed admiration and respect and hope and anticipation and love. The atmosphere in the room became charged with an energy that was almost too much for the remaining mortals to handle.

"Ummm, I'll come help." Andrew said quickly, standing hurriedly to follow Giles into the kitchen.  
Xander chuckled and stood, ready to take the bags upstairs and give the vampires some space.

"Xander?"

Angel had stood also and somehow rounded the sofa at the other end to stand in his path.

"Thank me when you're cured, deadboy." Xander clapped a hand to the vampire's shoulder and continued upstairs with the bags.

Angel rolled his eyes at the inappropriateness of the pet name and turned around to Spike to see him just stifling a smirk.

"So," the elder vampire began, holding onto the back of the sofa for support as he made his way back around to sit down. "How are we going to do this then?"

Spike slowly got up and moved from the chair to the sofa, sitting alongside Angel and pressing the side of his body close to his grandsire.

"I think," he said quietly, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders, leaving his tight-fitting t shirt in place, "that we need to do this the way it always should have been done."

Angel looked at Spike. He looked at the extension of that pale white neck, stretched away from him in an open invitation, and swallowed down on the need that built deep in his stomach.

It was a short moment before Spike spoke again.

"Sire."


	65. Chapter 65

Bed had been a welcome relief for Spike, and he'd headed almost straight upstairs after Angel had been looked after. He'd expected Xander to be hovering about, waiting for him to appear, and he couldn't help feeling disappointed when he rounded the top of the stairs to be met with silence. There was no movement coming from Xander's room.  
A frisson of hope swept through Spike as he briefly hoped to find the boy in his own bedroom instead, but it was short-lived as Spike soon found it equally silent and his bed empty.

As he pulled off his t shirt, the lingering sting at the juncture between shoulder and neck made him groan. It had been a long time since he'd shared a moment like that. With anyone. Having Angel feed from him that way, it was intimate and something Spike had never expected to experience again. When Angel then offered his own wrist to Spike - something Spike had never dared to wish for - his demon had pined.  
Pined for Angel to assert himself as Spike's Sire.  
Pined for much more than could ever be offered.  
Both vampires had already accepted that it could never be that way again though, and even the demon relented, releasing its new Sire and allowing him to hold him close for a moment.

Spike couldn't deny that it'd left him feeling both fulfilled and a little empty. He had felt the new, strengthened bond between himself and Angel the moment they had committed to each other but, despite that, there was also a part of him, or his demon, that needed more. Not necessarily from Angel, but more. More of something.

More of Xander.

But the boy had been through enough. For now. Spike chose to let him rest.  
They had all the time in the world tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xander woke feeling hot and cold, sweating and shaking and failing to stifle the panicked shriek that tore from him.  
The room closed in on him and everything felt too eerily quiet and too deafening loud, all at the same time. He shot up off the bed and pushed himself backwards until he bumped against the corner of the room and slid down the wall, arms wrapped around his knees in front of him.

He'd only been asleep for minutes, it felt like. He'd let his guard down for minutes, but his father had noticed. Noticed and flung the basement door open, footsteps thundering downstairs to where Xander had mistakenly fallen asleep.

Guard down.  
Always a mistake.  
Sleep with one eye open.  
Don't sleep.  
Always be on guard.

Xander didn't know how, but his father always knew, and, as he rounded the bottom of the steps, slipping his belt from the waistband of his jeans, Xander had cried out.

He always cried out.  
He always did, but nobody came.  
Not his mother, not his friends, no one.

He only knew one way to make it stop.  
He relented to his father's demands.  
Make it quick, and make it stop.  
It was the only way he knew how.

Afterwards, he would deal with it, and maybe this time, it would all end for good.  
Maybe this time, he wouldn't be the spineless wimp his father accused him of being.  
Maybe this time, when the glistening silver blade slipped slowly across his wrists, he would finally succeed it making it stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel had just come upstairs when he heard the sounds from Xander's room. At first, he thought perhaps Spike was in there, but what he heard next both convinced him otherwise and made his stomach turn.

"Xander?"

Angel slowly pushed open the door to the room and waited for his eyes to adapt to the dim light. He looked over at the bed, expecting to see Xander and frowned when he found it empty. Taking a step into the room, he was instantly alerted to a shape in the far corner. As he took another step, he heard Xander whimper, and he hesitated, wondering if he was the right person to deal with this. Spike, Giles or even Andrew might be better suited...

"Don't."

It was almost inaudible, and Angel only heard it because his preternatural senses were beginning to recover already.

"Please... don't..."  
The boy started to sob.

"Xander?"

Angel crossed swiftly and with more confidence until he found himself stood next to the cowering form. Feeling awkwardly too tall and towering above the boy who was clearly distressed, he bent down in front of Xander, shuffling to sit next to him against the bedroom wall.

Xander blinked and turned his head sideways to look at Angel. Gradually, his breathing calmed and the sobs that had started, slowed to the occasional hitch. He leant his head sideways against Angel's shoulder, and Angel, to his credit, didn't flinch, instead pulling the boy into his strong arms as he settled on him.

There was silence for a few minutes before Xander, having composed himself a little more and regained his voice, finally spoke.

"I wanted to die."

His voice was quiet but sure and not at all reflecting the seriousness of what he had just admitted.  
Angel nodded, and Xander lifted his head to look at him. Half-expecting to see the cold aloofness that he usually received from the vampire, he saw only understanding and empathy. He shifted slightly, lifting some of his weight off Angel but still resting in his arms.

Safe.

He let his eyes close again as Angel processed what the boy had just said.  
After a moment, he felt the vampire's body relax against his own.

"I know, Xander. I wanted to die too."


	66. Chapter 66

Andrew and Giles were sitting around the kitchen table, each nursing a mug of tea, when Xander entered the room. He had peeled himself out from under Angel's grip with only a hazy recollection of how he had ended up there in the first place. The vampire hadn't stirred as Xander slipped into the bathroom, sorted himself out and threw on some sweats and a t shirt before leaving the sleeping form and heading downstairs.  
His head felt groggy, almost like a bad hangover.  
This told him he'd been having nightmares again, and the heavy, sick feeling in his stomach confirmed it.  
Then he remembered.  
He remembered who and what and where. He remembered the fear, and he remembered the desperate longing for the end.  
And he remembered Angel.

God, he really, really needed a coffee.

As he wandered into the kitchen, the two men looked up, and Giles leapt from the table, flicking the coffee machine on.

"Sleep well?" he asked, innocently enough, not really paying too much attention to Xander's rather apparent non-rested appearance. "I wasn't sure when you'd make it downstairs." he added, handing the mug of fresh coffee to Xander who had sat himself down at the table. "36 hours without sleep takes some recovering from."

Xander glanced up at the clock. 1.30pm. He'd only slept for about 6 hours, and he supposed that neither vampire would surface much before dusk.  
Probably Spike would be weary from the whole "feeding Angel" thing, and Angel? Well, he had no idea about Angel, not having a clue at what time he had ended up in the elder vampire's company.  
He thought briefly about what had actually happened between Spike and Angel. Xander knew it was an intimate thing, the sharing of blood, and despite the almost clinical necessity of it, there must have been some sort of connection or new bond formed between the two as a result.  
He tried to work out how that made him feel. 

"Hungry?"

Xander snapped out of his reverie to see Giles offering him a plate of bagels.

"It's not much, sorry. We've not really been out. I just thought... perhaps..."

"Thanks. Yeah." Now that Xander thought about it, he was hungry, and maybe something to eat would help to shift that sick, churning sensation in his stomach. He took a bagel - cream cheese and ham - and bit into it. Yeah, he was famished.

"I don't suppose anyone has seen anything of Spike or Angel since... you know."

Xander wasn't sure how to describe it, but the two men knew what he meant anyway. Andrew shook his head, and Giles removed his glasses and began polishing, gripping them as if they would vanish from his hands if he didn't.

"What happened between them..." he finally answered, after replacing the clean spectacles and clearing his throat, "You know what it could mean, don't you?" Giles sat between the two men at the table, and it was clear that his question was deliberately aimed at both of them.

Andrew looked at Xander, who just shrugged, unsure to which exact part of "it" Giles was referring.

"That Angel won't die?" Andrew finally offered, mirroring Xander's shrug but with a little less conviction.

"Well, yes. Possibly. Hopefully." he added quickly. "I mean, more specifically between Angel and Spike. Their demons."

"Oh." Andrew hadn't really given that much thought, his mind preoccupied with getting Angel better rather than anything else.

Giles cleared his throat again, pleased that he only needed to go through this once now that both were present, and the vampires themselves were still sleeping. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for whatever reactions these two men might show.

"Spike had to feed Angel. We know that, right. Well, it is entirely possible that Spike may also have fed from Angel. To reinforce the bond between them. That could, depending on what happened, make Angel... Spike's..." he swallowed hard "... Spike's Sire. I mean, Angel has pretty much been acting like his Sire since Dru left anyway, but this... this could change things."

Giles looked from Andrew to Xander, watching the two men process what had been said. Andrew frowned and nodded slowly. Xander looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn't quite find the words.

"So... did they...? I mean, do they usually... " Xander growled frustratedly at himself. "...you know. Is there normally... sex?"

Giles blushed a little, but he was prepared for such a question.

"Sometimes. Perhaps. I mean, there is mention, in the journals, of such a thing happening, but between Angel and Spike? I don't know. There's so much history between them but... I suppose you'd have to ask Spike?" Giles left it sounding like a question, having no desire whatsoever to imagine how such a conversation would come about.

Xander had no idea either. How could he broach such a thing with Spike when their own relationship was still so new and Spike's relationship with Angel was... not? He suddenly felt very insecure and panicky, and he stood, pushing his chair out noisily, making it judder.

"I need... I'm just... I need some air."

He waved his hands and flung himself out of the kitchen, towards the front door, leaving Andrew open-mouthed and Giles watching as he disappeared outside.

Xander felt stupid.  
Stupid that he ever thought there could really be something between himself and Spike.

It was obvious now. Spike and Angel, they were obviously meant to be together. Sire and Childe. Over one hundred years of connection just made stronger by... whatever had happened in that room.

Suddenly, Xander felt sick again as he found himself stumbling down a side alley not far from AI. He slid down the wall, curling himself up against a pile of old boxes. Fortunately, the ground beneath him was dry, but he found himself not caring anyway.

He didn't care.   
Spike wouldn't care.  
Nobody cared.

Xander was, once again, alone, and as he glanced down at his hands, wrapped about his knees, he caught sight of the inside of a wrist, noticing the fine silvery-red lines to which he hadn't paid much attention in recent days.

As the sickening feeling deepened, a sudden realisation swept over him, and he knew exactly what to do.


	67. Chapter 67

Spike woke with a yawn and a stretch. Only a small twang in his neck reminded him of recent events which he recalled with a fond smile. The swell of arousal that followed made him needy for just one thing.

Xander.   
He needed Xander.

Leaping out of bed towards the door, he stopped, realising he probably need to clean himself up before going to see the boy. He looked down at himself, noting the crumpled clothes he had slept in, and began rummaging in the drawers for some clean stuff. Paying a quick visit to the bathroom before smartening himself up, he hoped he looked good enough for Xan.

Slowly, he approached Xander's bedroom door, pushing an ear to it to see if he could hear any sounds from inside. The hallway clock said 6pm, and Spike could feel that it was already dusk. There was a very good chance that the boy was already up and about, but Spike wanted to check upstairs first. 

He wanted Xander upstairs.   
He wanted Xander... everywhere.   
But first, upstairs.

Hearing no movement, Spike pushed open the door, hoping to see his friend sleeping soundly in bed. The boy deserved a good sleep. He needed it. After the events of the last few days, they all needed a break. Spike had rested well. He'd had his break. Now he needed his boy.

He stepped into the bedroom and frowned at the empty bed. Xander must have gone down already, and Spike was about to leave and head that way when a shape in the corner of the room got his attention.  
He stretched his preturnatural vision further, peering into the darkness. If he didn't know better, he would swear it was...

"Spike?"

...Angel.

Spike hesitated a moment, his mind unsure what to think. Angel rolled his shoulders and stretched, pushing himself to stand. He flexed out the rest of his muscles as he walked across the room to Spike, who was still just inside the doorway.

"Don't read anything into it, William." he said, placing a hand on the blonde vampire's arm. "When I came up last night, I heard noises from the room and found Xander having a nightmare. I just held him so he felt safe, that's all."

Spike couldn't help the small pang of jealousy that coursed through him. Holding Xander was his job; his responsibility. He should have been the one who...

"I'm sure Xander understood that you needed to rest last night. What you did, it was a good thing. A big thing. Renewing the bond between us was draining, and I'm sure Xander will understand that."

Spike nodded mutely, feeling partially placated by his Sire's words. Xander had enough experience around his kind to know more than anybody probably should, and that thought made Spike feel another swell of affection for the boy.

"C'mon, Spike. Let's head downstairs. I feel better than I have in weeks, and I'm starving. You must be too."

Now that he thought about it, Spike was hungry. Hungry for more than just blood. He just had something he needed to do before he went down to see Xander again.

"Thank you." Spike began, pulling Xander's bedroom door closed behind them as they exited, "Sire." he added, as Angel disappeared down the stairs, leaving Spike unsure if the elder vampire had even heard him.

Angel rounded the bottom of the stairs to find Giles standing in the main hall and Andrew shifting nervously from foot-to-foot behind him.

"Ah... Angel." Giles said, resisting the urge to nervously wipe at his glasses. He opened his mouth to speak again but found words lacking. Andrew trotted up to Angel, chewing his bottom lip anxiously.

"I think you might want to find Xander, Angel. We were talking... about what happened.. between you and Spike..."

"What MIGHT have happened." Giles added, correctively.

"Right, yes. We were talking about what might have happened... and Xander asked... about whether sometimes you... vampires, I mean... you know...whether you..."

Giles sighed, painfully frustrated with Andrew's waffling.

"He asked whether you might have had sex. We couldn't answer of course, but he appeared to be agitated by the idea..."

"And he ran out. He just left." Andrew finished.

"Fuck." Angel muttered under his breath. Xander had been wrecked when Angel had gone into him. If even a little of that remained, there was no telling what the boy might do.

"I'll find him." Angel said, picking up his coat and heading towards the front door, glancing back at the stairs before he left.

"He will find him, Andrew." Giles reassured the younger man. "Trust Angel. He looks much better today. Stronger; more himself. He will find him."

Andrew nodded. Xander would be in safe hands. Angel would find him, and everything would be all right. Angel seemed healed, Spike and Xander were back, and everything would be OK. He turned and went back into the kitchen, flicking back on the coffee machine and kettle and pulling out two clean mugs. He briefly considered the Scotch bottle that sat on the counter but decided better of it. 

He poured the two warm brews and set them down on the table where Giles accepted his with a grunt. While the fresh tea was welcome, the watcher couldn't help the anxious feeling gnawing at him. The knowledge that Spike would come down soon and find Xander missing.

He'd barely processed that thought when Spike strolled into the kitchen with long, confident strides and a smug grin on his face. A grin which quickly faded when he noted both the absence of Xander and Angel and the solemn looks on the faces of the two men sitting at the table.

"What?" Spike stopped suddenly, all his sensed heightened and on full alert. Where was Xander? What had happened? All sorts of emotions began to flood through him and, momentarily the demon came forwards.

"Where is he?"

"Spike, please." Giles stood, hoping to placate the vampire and reason with the human side. "Please sit down."

Spike's human face slipped back into place, and he dropped down into a chair. Giles quickly heated him a pouch of fresh blood and sat back alongside the two men.

"Xander left, and Angel has gone to find him." He held his hand up, stopping Spike as he went to speak. "There was some discussion about what might have happened between you and Angel. Xander was interested, and he had some questions. I made it clear that only you could really answer those, but he seemed perturbed by the idea that the two of you might have..."

"Shit!" Spike swore loudly, making an already-jittery Andrew jump. "He thinks we... that me and Angel...That I would..." The demon flickered into place before Spike brought it under control again swiftly. 

"I would never do that to him." Spike spoke more softly, almost seeming hurt by the thought. How could Xander possibly think that he and Angel would do that? He thought back to what Angel had said, about how he had needed to make Xander feel safe. If he had still been feeling insecure when he woke, he could only imagine how Xander had felt at hearing what might have happened between the two vampires.

"Fuck!" he swore again, and as he started to get up from his chair, a strong hand settled on his arm. He turned to see Giles, his fingers firmly around his upper arm, holding him.

"Angel will find him." Giles knew he couldn't stop the stronger vampire from leaving if he really wanted to go, but Spike knew that the watcher was right. 

He trusted Angel to find his boy.  
He just hoped he could do it before Xander did anything stupid.


	68. Chapter 68

Angel stood outside AI and stopped, letting the sounds and smells of the dusky evening air wash over him. He had to find Xander. He'd seen what kind of state Xander had been in, and he couldn't imagine, with the added insecurities of the conversation with Giles and Andrew - DAMN those humans and their big mouths - that anything good would come from Xander's running off.

He hadn't seen much of Xander since the boy had arrived from England, but it was evident for all to see that there was something between him and Spike. Something that had perhaps been there longer than anybody had realised; something that had grown; blossomed into something much more in the brief time that they had been away in Bordensville.

When Angel had asked Spike about it, as they lay in the afterglow of blood exchange, he hadn't denied it. Sure, he hadn't given any details of what, if anything, had happened between them during their road trip, but it was clear that Spike had intense feelings for the boy. Feelings that he sensed were mutual.

Angel really had to find Xander, because he knew that, if he didn't, Spike would be torn apart, and Angel really didn't think that Spike could handle going through that again.

He closed his eyes, momentarily catching Xander's scent in the air. It wasn't what he had expected. The scent had an aroma of desperation; of pain; of loss. It was the kind of scent that, at one time, Angelus would have found alluring, but to Angel, it meant nothing good. He broke into a fast walk, trying to keep a hold of the scent as he passed one... two blocks before stopping again. He was close, he could feel it, and suddenly there was more than just a sense of Xander's pain in the air, there was blood.

Strong, thick, fresh blood.

He caught the hint of something else too: a slowing heartbeat that thrummed in time with the pure, rich, flowing swells.

Angel took two more long steps towards the scent and found himself in the entrance to an alley. He turned swiftly, scanning the side street with his preternatural eyesight and taking in garbage, dumpsters and trash.

He had to be close. He could almost reach out and touch the smell now, and his demon was desperate to leap and claim.

"Xander?"

Angel tried shouting, a distraction at best. An attempt to hold back his demon and keep the soul in control. He had to help Xander. He had to help his friend.

"Xander?"

He tried again, this time with more urgency.

Another hit of blood, grabbing a hold of his demon and pulling it forwards. Angel broke into a run down the alley, towards the scent; towards where he knew Xander lay.

The boy was resting up against a dumpster, his tanned skin pale even in the dimly lit alley.

"Xander!" Angel exclaimed, rushing up to the boy and pulling his slumped body into a more upright position as he suppressed his demon. Xander responded with a soft groan, but his eyes remained close. Angel scanned his body hurriedly.  
Blood. There must be an injury somewhere. The smell was almost overpowering the vampire now and, as he forced his demon down a second time, he closed his eyes, letting his other senses find the source.

Angel's eyes shot open again as he flipped over Xander's arms, exposing his wrists. As a piece of broken glass fell from his right hand, Angel noticed that his left wrist was damp. Damp and dark with blood and a rapidly decelerating pulse. Angel tore a strip from his own shirt and pressed it firmly to Xander's arm, hoping to stem the flow. He had no idea how much blood the boy had lost, but he was somewhat relieved when Xander moaned and opened his eyes.

"Angel? I..."

"Shhhhhhh." Angel pulled Xander into a close embrace, ensuring that he kept the pressure constant on the injured wrist. "It's OK. Everything is OK. I need to get you home, Xander." At the mention of home, Xander let out a long, shuddering breath, closing his eyes again as he did so.

"Stay with me, Xander." Angel said calmly, pulling the boy into his arms and lifting him up. He'd have to carry him back to AI but, with greater-than-average strength and the fact that he didn't have far to go, Angel was more than capable. "I need to get you back to Spike."

"Spike?" Xander forced his eyes open a second time. "I didn't think... I don't think..."

Whatever Xander wanted to say and couldn't was obvious even without words, and a useless anger swept over Angel again. But anger wouldn't help anybody now. Giles and Andrew weren't to know. They weren't to know how vulnerable Xander was; how damaged; how insecure. 

"Spike loves you, Xander."

Angel's words felt almost unnatural even to Angel himself, and Xander almost thought he had misheard. He turned his head towards Angel, looking for signs that the vampire was just saying things to make him feel better; making it up; stringing him along. It felt almost as though he were caught somewhere between a dream and a terrible nightmare.

"Nothing happened." Angel added, knowing Xander would know what he meant. Only half a block to go, and although Angel's arms weren't tiring, he felt a sense of urgency that came with the body that sagged further within them.

"Nothing happened between Spike and me, Xander. Spike would never do that to you."

Xander let out another groan as Angel pushed open the front door to AI and rushing into the living area.

As Andrew and Spike ran over and Giles disappeared into the kitchen to fetch the first aid kit, Xander's eyes slipped closed again and everything went black.


	69. Chapter 69

"You're an idiot."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The voice was distant, almost dreamlike, and Xander wasn't sure if he'd dozen off in class again back at Sunnydale.   
Except it didn't sound like Buffy's voice.  
He concentrated hard, trying to work out who, where, why and what the HELL was going on.  
He felt himself floating. Or at least he thought he did. He blinked hard and tried to focus on something; anything.  
What he saw, however, was the last thing he expected.

The Scooby gang were all sitting around the table in the library. Willow's face was red from crying, and Buffy's arm was slung protectively around the redhead's shoulder.  
Giles was pacing impatiently, shooting occasional glances towards the office as if he were waiting for something.

"What's going on?"

Xander frowned as he realised that the words in his head hadn't made sound in the library. He floated across from the table towards Giles' office, concentrating hard once more and managing to ground himself somewhere near the steps.

"Giles?"

No sound again, and Xander began to get frustrated. Why wasn't his voice working?

The shrill tone of the telephone rang loudly in the quiet of the room. Giles rushed to answer, swallowing hard before speaking.

"Rupert Giles." he answered tersely. No time for pleasantries. They needed an update, and they needed it now.

Without hearing the other side of the conversation, Xander and the girls could only watch as Giles responded with a series of sounds and short replies, until a minute or two later, he hung up with a formal "Thank you. We'll be in touch to make arrangements."

Buffy stood, Willow's eyes following her as she approached her Watcher who was standing mute in the doorway of the office.

"So?" she asked firmly. They'd waited long enough, and Giles' silence was frustrating. "What did they say? How is he?"

"Who?" Xander tried to ask, his voice failing him again. He looked from Willow to Giles, choosing to sit down on the corner of the table by the redhead. 

"Will?" he leaned towards her, growling inwardly when she appeared to ignore him a second time.

Giles closed the office door behind him and began walking towards the table. Buffy followed and both sat themselves down, Giles taking off his glasses and beginning to clean them anxiously. Willow let out a choked sob which momentarily brought the Watcher's attention back to the table, and he cleared his throat deliberately.

"That was the hospital." he began, ignoring Buffy's response of "Obviously" and instead giving her a look that made her quieten her muttering. "They said that the injuries were extensive. The knife he had used wasn't very clean or very sharp, and he had... the injuries were very deep...and by the time he was found, he had been bleeding out for some time. They tried a transfusion, but it was too late."

Buffy's hand flew to her mouth as she stifled the sounds threatening to fill the library and beyond. Willow shook her head violently. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. Something wasn't right.

"Why?" she eventually choked out. "Why would he do that? What could have been so bad that he couldn't come to us? Doesn't he know how much we care... cared about him?"

Buffy reached a hand across to her friend, placing it on Willow's. Xander wanted to do the same: to comfort his life-long friend, but he found himself unable; frozen in space and time.

"I don't know, Willow." Giles replied, his own emotions only barely held in check themselves. "I don't know."

Xander slipped off the table and walked around it, standing behind the Watcher.  
He wanted to ask who, when, where, why and how, but he realised that he already knew. He knew who and what and why and how, and while he didn't quite understand why he was seeing it, he knew without any shadow of a doubt that every bit of grief, loss and love pouring out of the three people in the library right now, was completely and utterly genuine and real.

And he couldn't leave that behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're an idiot."

He heard it again, but this time it came with a gentle squeeze of the arm and from a very familiar source.

"Spike?" His voice was hoarse, his throat dry and rough, but he felt a sense of relief at hearing the sound at all. He felt a glass press against his lips and drank slowly as it tilted towards him. As it tilted away from him again, he nodded his thanks.

"You ARE an idiot though."

Xander opened his eyes to see Spike, his face filled with concern. 

"Thanks." he said quietly, his throat only slightly soothed. He felt rough, and he frowned as he tried to recall what had happened. 

"It's OK." Spike's voice was hushed and reassuring as the contact between Spike's hand on Xander's arm tightened briefly. "You're going to be OK. Fortunately, Angel found you in time and we were able to ... You'll be OK."

Everything flooded back to Xander, suddenly overwhelming him with emotions, and he turned his face away from the vampire.

"I'm sorry." he choked out. "I thought... I didn't know..."

Spike gently turned the boy's face back towards his own, forcing eye contact between them.

"Like I said, you're an idiot." Spike smiled genuinely, leaning down to press his lips to Xander's in a brief but heartfelt kiss.

"Nothing happened between Angel and me. It was just a blood thing. He might be my Sire now but you..." he stopped for a moment, composing himself before continuing, "You, Alexander Harris, you are my friend; my partner; my love."

Xander smiled, looking up at the face of this man, this person who held everything of Xander's in his hands. His body; his heart; his soul.

"Even if I am an idiot?" he asked, placing his hand atop Spike's which was still cupped to his cheek.

"Yes, pet." Spike replied, without hesitation. "Even if you're an idiot."


	70. Epilogue

3 months later.

"Gimme something to fight , Sire!" Gunn joked as he swung in through the back door and dropped his bag down on the floor. "That nest was child's play."

Angel chuckled. Gunn had arrived back at AI 6 weeks ago, and Angel had sent his Childe after a new vamp nest. It had taken some getting used to having the young vampire around, but he'd settled well and become good friends again with Spike.

"At least he didn't send me to spy on ya this time." Spike swept into the kitchen after Gunn, grabbing two pouches from the fridge and throwing them together into the microwave to heat. "He trusted you to be fine on yer own."

Gunn took the warmed pouch gratefully, pouring it into his favourite mug.

"True." he responded pensively. Angel had let him do this one alone. It was a sign that his Sire trusted him to be not only an effective fighter but a good Childe; not easily led astray by fellow vampires who might want to try to turn him back to the "dark side".

"It's good to be part of the team again." he added, dropping the empty mug into the sink. "Never thought I would be. Not properly." He turned back around to see Spike finishing his mug and nodding.

"Almost like old times, eh?"

Angel wandered in, followed by Andrew. The two had been spending more time together in recent weeks, and it was clear to anybody who looked that the older vampire had a soft spot for the boy. They might not have launched themselves headlong into a relationship, but there was something there that had promise, and it seemed like a comfortable place for them both.

"I don't remember being quite so outnumbered by vamps in old times though." Xander added, sauntering in after Andrew and pinching the fourth and final seat at the kitchen table before Spike could grab it himself. The blonde vampire raised an eyebrow, and Xander playfully patted his knees, inviting his lover to sit.

The last few months had been a whirlwind for everyone. After Xander had recovered, he and Spike had agreed that they would always be open and honest with each other, with no secrets or unspoken suspicions. Trust had actually come easy to them both, and it had been a comfortable transition from friends to lovers, like they were destined to be together; like it was fate.

They'd become a team at AI: Angel, Spike, Xander, Andrew and Gunn.  
Angel Investigations had become busy and active once more, finding themselves battling all manner of demons and monsters.

Andrew placed fresh coffees in front of Xander and at his own seat, and fresh mugs down in front of each vampire.

"Outnumbered, we may be," he said calmly, sitting back down on his chair while Spike stayed on Xander's knees, "but we're all family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endings are hard, aren't they?  
> It's tricky to wrap it all up without it seeming like something of an anticlimax!  
> Hopefully, the epilogue worked.


End file.
